Les Petit Amis
by hoogan
Summary: Best to read my story "All The Little Children" first but not essential. Part I is a collaboration with Sophie Capulet. This is the genesis of the family at Musain. I don't know how often they have adventures but it's a work in progress. The reason I'm rating it M is purely for language. There will be nothing adult-related other than strong language.
1. Chapter 1

**The cafe has been sold...but to who? Where will the meetings happen now? This is the formation of the Les Mis 'family'. It helps to read my "All The Little Children" story but if you don't want to, there are some brief re-caps here too. **

**I can't guarantee how often they'll have new adventures. The other Amis will have cameo appearances but I've just assigned a few of them to be key characters. Some of the first names will look familiar as I'm just using French versions of some of the actors' names who played the characters. Some have no translation so I've picked other names. **

**Sylvain Enjolras**

**Francois Courfeyrac**

**Yvan Combeferre**

**Jean Prouvaire**

**Georges Grantaire**

**Sebastian Joly**

**Les Petit Amis**

**Feathering the Nest**

Stricken with fever that resulted in a series of strokes, the owner of the Musain was unable to continue to run it. Enjolras felt the blood drain from his face when he heard that it was up for sale. Oh, between all of the Amis, they could afford to meet in any number of places away from Sainte Michel and in the beginning, had it been up to him they would. While Enjolras' fight was FOR the people, he was the one who took longest to adapt to the living conditions down there. He was used to it now but the stench and filth, at first was not something he was used to. For the first little while, it was the people who repulsed him but it wasn't long before his repulsion was turned from those who had nothing to those who had plenty...which of course was his own family. That was then, now he couldn't imagine meeting anywhere else. If they took to a better area of town, it would defeat the purpose, not to mention, they had made a lot of good friends in the locals.

"For sale?" Enjolras said. "Who the hell around here could afford to buy it?"

"We can!" Prouvaire said and everyone sat up and took notice. The man rarely said shit if his mouth was full of it and now he's speaking up to buy property...in Sainte Michel. True, the price wouldn't be high and the students could probably buy it with their pocket change. Best of all was that the land title officer was on the side of the revolution so he wouldn't wonder exactly why a bunch of rich young boys were interested in this property.

Talks and negotiations started right away, each of the students bringing his share of money to the table until they met the asking price and the deal was sealed. Who owned it? Well, they all did but they put Jean Prouvaire's name on the deed because it was his idea. Who was going to run it? The standing joke was that it would be Grantaire but, while he made friends easily and could actually be quite a charming bartender, he was certainly not one to be in charge. No, that wouldn't do so they divvied up the chores and they hired a few of the locals to run it. Grantaire would tend bar when he was sober enough to do so. But when he started handing out wine for free, his shift would be over. They had a test for that. They kept the downstairs as a cafe but now they had something they had always wanted...a private area. Upstairs became the new 'fort' for Les Amis, private lodgings and while the public could sit up there until evening, they had to stay downstairs. Why? Because it became more like a home. As Grantaire worked bar and table service downstairs and started weaving more, someone would send him up the stairs for something. When he got to the point that he couldn't come back down stairs quickly, they knew that he had enough and shouldn't serve any more. Usually he just stayed upstairs after that point in the day but they couldn't keep him up there against his will as the latrines were out back and, needless to say on the ground floor.

The first thing they could do was have an actual private area that Combeferre didn't have to clear out every time he treated one of the children. Before he just had a corner in the cafe and the regular patrons accepted that but any basins, carbolic, salves and medicines had to be taken away and shoved into a back room at evening's end. Without even asking anyone, he moved into one of the back rooms, found a table and immediately began stocking things, mostly stuff he took from the university and a big iron tub for filling with hot water to soak kids in. They started moving more beds and mattresses into the back rooms so they didn't have to take turns or squish three in a bed if the evenings there got too late. They moved their belongings in so that they didn't have to run home and shave or clean up before heading to school the next day and brought more mattresses. They were rolled up and stored in the other rooms, chairs were purchased from locals, broken chairs were repaired by locals, nothing fancy was brought in from outside of Sainte Michel.

Enjolras was in his glory with the set up. He no longer had to cross town after school and then leave Sainte Michel to go back to the richer area, feeling like a hypocrite every time he left those on the streets. He looked in one of the grey cement rooms. There was minimal dampness on the walls, the floor was as clean as could be expected, considering it housed cafe supplies before it was a bedroom. He hung a rope along one side of the wall and slung his clothes over it and stacked some books on a small table.

Courfeyrac looked in the door of another one and grinned at his new room. "Do you live here now?" he heard a voice and turned around to see Gavroche.

"Hello, Souris." he smiled at him. "Yes, this is my room now." he said, wiping spider webs away from the window with his cravat.

"You're not going home anymore?" Gavroche asked. He spent more than his share of nights there, too as long as one of the students stayed there. It was rare that all of the students went home on the same night but now it was looking promising to Gavroche that he wouldn't have to go back to the elephant.

The elephant was good lodgings until he had gotten a taste of a few nights in the cafe. Part of it was the lack of bugs and cold but it was also...when in the cafe, he felt he mattered to someone. When he was sick and being passed from one set of arms to the other, eventually he could tell who was holding him without even opening his eyes. Grantaire was obvious by the smell. Gamin were used to stink, Grantaire didn't stink but the smell of the wine seeped out of his pores. Enjolras' arms were strong and a bit awkward. He had obviously had no cause to interact with children since he had been one himself but he was learning. One of the things Gavroche loved doing with Enjolras was leaning his head against his chest as he fell asleep and Enjolras talked. Gavroche had very little knowledge of what he was talking about but the voice was so confident and Gavroche was also confident that those arms wouldn't relax and let him fall as Grantaire's occasionally did. Combeferre was always the doctor. While holding him, he felt his face and his stomach, sponged him down, feeding him warmed wine and wiping his runny nose and eyes. Prouvaire often made up simple tunes to the poetry and stories he knew and softly sung them as he rocked Gavroche. Courfeyrac was the most obvious in that he rarely held him at all. He was the one who took Gavroche to bed. Occasionally, if he still had some studying to do, he would sit with him in his arms while he worked but more often than not, he would take him to a bed and tuck him in. He would bring a chair in to sit and read, more often than not dozing off but available if he was needed.

"Gav..." Courfeyrac looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Do you want to stay here?" he asked. "I can bring another bed in here. Would you like that?" he asked and Gavroche broke into a huge smile. "Okay then, go over to Combeferre's room for your check up." he told his new little roommate.

The move-in of the students didn't go unnoticed by the children. Every time someone brought another bag or chair to the cafe, they would go scampering over to look up the stairway. The people in the cafe got a bit annoyed with them and shooed them out like animals but there was nothing they could do about the evening check ups that Combeferre was doing. He left Joly out of it or he would have all the children panicked with various maladies. He meant well but he steered clear of the children, they were germy and didn't care where they put their little hands. He gave them respect but he wasn't going to get too close.

Combeferre's little waif - he called Fleur was a jet haired cutie. She still brought him flowers but he no longer gave her coins. The children ate bread and cheese and drank wine once a day in the cafe. She also pumped and carried a pail of water upstairs for the foot and hand baths and poured the strong smelling carbolic onto the rags Combeferre used to clean the children with. Her own bath was always the last of the evening and after he washed her up, he took the flower out of his buttonhole and tucked it behind her ear. One thing about Fleur, she called the students by their first name, preceding it with 'frere'. Someone taught these children some manners.

"Frere-Yvan." she said to Combeferre at the end of the exams. "Gavroche said that he is going to live here now." she said, sitting on the table, swinging her feet as he checked them. "He's staying with Frere-Francois."

"Oh?" Combeferre asked, digging dirt out from under her toenails.

"What do I have to do to stay here too?" she asked.

"Different story, Mon Fleur" the doctor said. Girls started in the brothels very young and he didn't want anyone to think they were grooming the girls for that. On the other hand... "Tell you what, I'll see what I can do, no promises." he helped her down off the table. "Go get something to eat." he shooed her, then stood a moment and thought.

Feuilly's 'Rene' twins - Un and Deux were at the table already and Gavroche was helping to bring the food. After Combeferre dumped the basin and hung the rags up to dry, he leaned on his hand in the doorway, watching the interaction between the children and the other students. While everyone owned the place, they did leave Jean Proviere's name as the ultimate say. They had to have one 'mayor', they chose the one most docile but still committed to the revolution and Combeferre waved him over with a nod of his head and explained about Gavroche staying with Courfeyrac.

"I guess...if it's just him..." Prouvaire said. "I mean, we can't take them ALL in or this place would just be a full time orphanage."

"Fleur wants to stay." Combeferre said quickly. "Come..." he pulled Prouvaire over the the window. "Look onto the street." he pointed to a dirty man leading around the girls, some as young as eleven years old. "Look at what she's destined for. Can you let that happen knowing that today you can keep just one from this?" he pointed to the street workers.

"No." Prouvaire sighed. "You're right. If we can save just one." he nodded. "Where, pray do you say you're going to keep her?" he asked. "For the next year or two, in your room is fine, she's just a child of...what, six?"

"She doesn't know but it looks and sound about right. In two years, things could change. I'll be able to work at the hospital and probably get a small flat but whatever happens, I don't want to be the one responsible for her thinking that is her only choice." Combeferre explained and stepped aside so Enjolras could look out the window and share their thoughts. "People may misunderstand. They may think it's improper or suspicious that we keep girls in here but..." Combeferre stumbled.

"We can teach them to read." Enjolras said. "If they have nothing else, they will have that luxury when they are ready to work more respectable jobs or raise children of their own." he firmly believed that at the root of poverty was illiteracy and censorship. They stopped talking when they heard the hurried footsteps of two small children racing up the stairs.

Into the upstairs of the cafe came a little boy and a little girl. They had been holding hands but when they got up there, they stopped and looked at all the people. The little girl's eyes darted around, trying to find a place to hide, finally she ran across the room and dove under one of the tables. The little boy looked from one person to the other. "They said we're safe here." he said to nobody in particular.

"You are." Enjolras nodded, then gave a soft grunt as the little boy ran at him and buried his face in his stomach. He stroked the boy's hair. "What's happening out there?" he asked.

"They're taking the girls to...sell flowers." the boy said. "They only sell flowers for a little while, then nobody sees them again." Before he finished, three more little girls came running upstairs, hiding behind people and furniture, trying to make themselves disappear as the students gathered around the top of the staircase.

"You can't come up here." Enjolras said to the men who were at the bottom of the staircase. "We are studying, there's nothing else up here."

"There are children up there!" a man shouted, trying to intimidate Enjolras, who laughed. "Our daughters!"

"Who are your daughters?" Enjolras asked. "Collette?" he looked aroundand a little girl went over to the stairs. "You don't have to go, Cheri." he said but she went down the stairs. "Nicole?" Enjolras said again, looking around. Again,, the girl with the name started across the floor. "Please...stay." he whispered but she shook her head. "Margurite?" he repeated the name after the father said the name and he looked around to where Grantaire was holding a finger to his lips in front of a little girl who was crying and trembling.

"Is there a Margurite up here?" Enjolras asked then looked back down the stairs. "There's no Margurite up here." he said. He stared the man down...very easy to do when you're six steps above him and eventually the man left. It was then he realised that the whole time he had been standing up there, denying there were children, there were some small arms wrapped around his waist. The boy who had grabbed around him now stood behind him, his small hands clasped in front of Enjolras' waist like a belt buckle. "What's your name?" Enjolras looked over his shoulder and down, trying to unlock the kid's hands.

"Nico." the little boy said.

"Is that your sister?" Enjolras pointed under the table.

"Minette" Nico nodded.

"Come around where I can see you." Enjolras said, finally prying Nico's hands from his waist and pulling him in front of him. "Go sit at the table with the others." he told him and Nico's hand had to be twisted open to let go of Enjolras' coat.

The little girl under the table, Minette was still too scared to come out. "Come to the table, little girl." Courfeyrac waved and showed her where the food was. "Come on Belle..." he said to her, trying to win her over. Everyone's efforts were in vain. She would have to come out eventually but at the moment she had no intention of moving.

The afternoon turned to evening. Lamps and candles were lit, the party still went on upstairs, some of the children were nodding off. They were like little soldiers, every time one of them fell asleep and either fall off of a chair or face down on a table (as came to be known as 'Grantaire style'), someone would pick them up and take them to bed. The beds were getting full, the men had nowhere to sleep but they were not sending the children back outside.

"Just a bit of food." Courfeyrac was still trying to coax Minette out from under the table. They had even slid the table away from the wall but the hysteria that it had caused by the little girl made them put it back and vow to never touch it again. Finally, all of the children were asleep. The men had shoved them three and four to a bed so that they had a few beds to lie in but if this was going to keep up, they would have to do something more. "I'll stay up." Courfeyrac said in the common room as it was littered with children sleeping against tables and they would wake up occasionally.

"No, you go to bed, you have Gavroche." Jean Prouvaire said and waved him on. He kept a bit of bread and cheese and weak wine on the table. Eventually the little girl was going to get hungry enough to come out and get it. "You can come and take it if you like." Prouvaire said quietly to her. "You can even take it back under there." he said but continued to read. Often when it was just him, he would read in a whispered sing-song way and he really wasn't aware of it but eventually, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the little girl with filthy yellow hair, very ragged clothing and, when she looked up at him he saw azure eyes. He didn't break stride, he kept reading/singing softly, pretending to not see her and then he started making up words rather than reading the poetry.

"The little girl looks like a fairy who has played too long in the woods.

She slipped and fell into the mud and didn't wash before flying home.

Now she is dirty and nobody believes she is a fairy.

Fairies are pretty, fairies are clean...and not smelly...and their hair isn't matted..."

He stretched the last line out as best he could and kept tacking more and more onto the end.

"It doesn't say that." Minette's soft little voice said as she got near the table.

"Oui! It does!" Prouvaire said. "Right here...see?" he pointed in the book.

"I can't read." Minette reminded him. "What does the word 'fairy' look like?" she looked at the book.

"Oooh...you got me." Prouvaire shrugged. "It's not on here then but I can show you how to write the word." he said. "Tomorrow." he told her. "Tonight I want you to eat some food, I'm going to get some water and wash you a bit and I want you to go to sleep." he told her and went down the hall.

Minette slid into the chair that Prouvaire had been sitting on, still warm from where the poet had sat. She ate the food and looked at the book until she heard someone coming up the hallway. She jumped off of the chair and scurried back under the table in the corner.

"Minette?" Prouvaire sang as he came back into the common area. "I know you ate and I need you to come for a wash." he put the basin of water on the table and she crawled out. "You want your brother here too?" he asked. He was going to have to pull her clothing off and wash it in the basin overnight and he brought one of his own shirts for her to wear. "He's asleep now." he let her know and she shook her head. "Okay, I need to wash your clothes." he said and started to unbutton the top of her dress. She was okay with him pulling it off, it just about crumbled when he put it aside. Maybe he should stop on his way home from school tomorrow and find something new for her. He soaked the cloth in the water and started to wipe her down. "Sorry, no time to heat it." he explained when she jumped a bit at the cold. "Tomorrow, Fairygirl..." he said. "...we will have to wash your hair." he wondered if they would have to cut the crud out of it and he wondered if Nico had been just as filthy and he didn't notice. "Didn't you guys ever wash?" he asked her. "Your mama and papa, where are they?" he asked as he washed her so she would forget she was naked for now.

"I watched you and the others all the time." she said, ignoring the question.

"Your parents, Minette..." Prouvaire said as he held the shirt for her to put on. He sat her on the table so he could clean her feet and legs.

"Where are yours?" she asked him.

"At home...sleeping..." he said "...probably. And it'd be a good idea for you to be the same..." he said and finished up. "...what's wrong?" he asked, seeing tears on her cheeks.

"I don't want to go home and sleep..." she cried. "...it's cold, it's not even a house."

"Oh no no no..." Prouvaire waved off. "...I meant the sleeping part." he clarified. "The beds are just packed..." he sighed, hopelessly. The kids were jammed into some of the beds, the men were even two and three to a bed. "Something'll have to be worked out." he despaired that he was even going to have to tuck in with the snoring machine known as Grantaire. "Hmmm." he thought for a moment then went to the room where the rolled up mattresses were. He brought it into the common room and unrolled it onto the table. "Can you sleep there?" He asked. She shook her head and she pointed to where she had spent most of the day and evening. "UNDER?" he asked. "Minette, I don't know, the floor is pretty dirty here." he thought about the floor of the cafe. Food spills, drink spills, drunks who couldn't hold their water and the floor was only ever mopped, rarely scrubbed. Then he grinned and thought about where she had been sleeping before. "Okay." he gave in and moved the mattress under the table. Happily, she scurried under there and lay down on the mattress while he put a blanket over her. "You want another poem?" he asked.

"About fairies." she said.

"I don't think I know any." he said.

"Make one up then." she told him. She was very gutsy when nobody else was around.

"Fine." he said and cast a look over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching then he got onto his knees in his rich boy clothes and slid under the table with her. She lay her head on his lap as he improvised the first chapter of 'La Belle Fee" (Beautiful Fairy).

After Minette fell asleep, he crawled out. Could he leave her there? The first person up would scare the hell out of her. He went back down the hall...God he didn't want to share with Grantaire anyway so he grabbed another mattress and put it on the table in the common room. He tested the table against his weight, it was sturdy. At least the first person up in the morning would wake HIM and not her.

If someone picked the roof off of that cafe that night, they would be able to peek into the bedrooms. Gavroche and Nico in the bed across the room from Courfeyrac - who fought the covers from Enjolras. Margurite and Fleur were squished into a bed with the Renes but when Feuilly rounded up more beds for his little flat, he would take the boys with him every night. Joly and Combeferre were fortunate enough to have a bigger bed so they didn't have to fight and eventually one of the Renes would end up with them. Grantaire was on his own that night because he made too much noise. The pretty little fairy girl spent the night under the table and, on the dining room table lay the poet.


	2. The Wishing Card

**A/N - okay, this one is just a lot of fun and hogwash. I don't want to hear from any sci-fi buffs about quantum leaping and time traveling and all that stuff. I just thought it would be fun to take them waaay out of their element. **

Fish Out Of Water

It took time and a bit of shuffling but everyone was getting used to each other at the cafe. The students really would have liked to have taken in more of the children but there was no room and they would still have to feed and clothe them. There was the issue that they, too, had to go to school so that they may be able to take the kids out of Sainte Michel and establish them in actual homes. Some of the Amis from rich homes dreamed of giving them the same upbringing they had with warmth and baths, even the nannies and impersonal relationships with their parents were a better way. For the time being, keeping them clean and bug-free was good enough.

Feuilly's fan shop wasn't in a very fancy area of town but it wasn't in Sainte Michel either so there was a better chance of getting children's clothes in the box he kept in the corner. The students bought clothes, too but, people living outside of the slums were willing to donate children's clothing to 'the poor'. It was mostly people who lost their children due to illness who donated the clothing but most of the "Les Enfants de l'Musain" were clothed out of that box or some of the stuff the students at the university rounded up. Clothing was handed to the kids on the street, too. That was the genesis of the clothing round-ups.

Enfants d'Musain children didn't have a lot of friends other than each other now. The jealousy was something everyone feared, that was why the children were told how it was going to go if they moved in. Not a single child who had sought amnesty at the cafe went back out onto the streets.

There were now children living full time, each latched onto one of the students. Gavroche, the oldest was a permanent fixture next to Courfeyrac when he wasn't in school. Feuilly's seven year old boys - Rene Un and Rene Deux didn't live in the cafe but they spent days there while Feuilly worked at his shop. When Feuilly finished work, he went to the cafe and brought the boys home. Eventually they would work there, too but for now they needed to learn to read and write. Enjolras shared a room with 7 year old Nico - who could be found attached to Enjolras' jacket any time he could be and stuck beside him when there was no jacket to hang onto. Blonde curly hair and blue eyes, Nico could have passed for any relative of Enjolras'. While Enjolras was at school, Nico cleaned at the cafe. When dreams got creepy he crawled into bed with Enjolras and slept well.

Across the hall from that room was Grantaire. The only one who could sleep with his snoring was a little girl who, it turned out was deaf and that was what saved her from going back to her father the night he came looking for her. She couldn't tell anyone her name so Grantaire named her after his dear mother - Margurite. It was guessed she was about five with dark brown hair and eyes. She wasn't used to anyone using a name for her and when Grantaire tried to get her to say her name, she said "Peep" and that became her nickname. It didn't matter. There would be no birth certificate with ANY name for her. Her lack of hearing was also what kept her connected to Grantaire. She had no idea he was talking gibberish as the day grew on, she only knew his bright blue eyes looked at hers when he talked and she felt special. She helped at the cafe all day as they were just devising a crude means of hand signals and gestures when Grantaire brought a book home from the school library of sign language. Everyone knew a little of it now. They would probably never hold entire conversations but they could at least communicate.

Combeferre and 6 year old Fleur shared the clinic room so they spent a lot of time smelling like carbolic. Occasionally, Fleur and 5 year old Minette shared the mattress under the table in the corner of the common room and Prouvaire was almost the watch dog as he spread his mattress on the dining table. There were no locks on the doors, anyone could have come up so he kept a baton by his bed if anyone should come up the stairs.

Fleur came skipping up the sidewalk, her raven hair flapping behind her and took the steps to the upstairs of the cafe two at a time. "I found this..." she said, holding a card. It was a strange material. It bended quite easily, it had raised lettering and was very colourful. "I think it's pretty." she waved it around and finally Enjolras wrestled it from her hand and looked at it. He couldn't make sense of it and passed it around until it finally went back to the finder. She had a little treasure box in her bedroom. It took all of Combeferre's will every time he walked by it to not peek into it to see what a little waif girl would hold so dear. The card would live in there but for now it was so pretty she just tucked it into her sock so she could take it out and look at it on a whim.

"Why didn't you stay for school today?" Enjolras asked her. The students were taking turns, everyone stayed home one day a week to teach the children. Fleur looked up at him, her emerald eyes wide as though she were expecting a horrible tongue lashing. Enjolras was the most authoritarian in the house but it was explained to the kids that he was harmless, just passionate about a few things and education was one of them. Just when the children were thinking they'd made him angry about something he'd so something silly like swing them around or hold them upside down by their ankles for a moment. Fleur just shrugged for an answer and took the card to show the other kids around the room. "I think it's your turn to put the plates on the table." Enjolras said as Courfeyrac cut the bread and the Renes started to dish out the stew.

"Sorry I'm late!" Prouvaire came up the stairs with his books in one hand and a sack in the other. He handed the sack to Gavroche. "Careful, it's a cake." he told him so it wouldn't get dropped. As soon as his arms were empty, Minette came from under the table and he picked her up. She was still very shy and while she didn't burst into tears when anyone talked to her, she just lived for the hour that Prouvaire came home and especially bedtime when he would 'read' her another chapter of The Beautiful Fairy. As long as he held a book open as he was making up the story, she figured he was reading.

She was a beautiful fairy. They'd had to cut some of her hair off to get the muck out of it but it was growing back - golden and silken and her azure eyes against her porcelain skin made her look like a doll.

"Why'd you buy a cake?" Gavroche asked.

"Must be SOMEone's birthday." Prouvaire shrugged.

"I think it should be Fleur's." Rene Un said. They had a game where they celebrated someone's birthday when they got something special. None of the gamin knew when their birthdays were, even their ages were just supposed. For all the birthdays they celebrated, each of the kids would be well into their teens but the students kept marks on a paper, keeping track of how old the thought they were.

"Coming, Grantaire?" Courfeyrac said as he pulled his chair closer to the table. "You know Peep won't come unless you do and I don't think anyone else is going to be joining us tonight." he said when they noticed the other students weren't at the cafe yet. Grantaire stepped away from his corner table and grabbed his waif by the waist, carrying her to the table. There weren't enough chairs so she sat on Grantaire's lap for supper.

"Put that thing down for now." Enjolras told Fleur as she held the bright card in her hand in spite of them being ready to say blessing. "Fine then..." he said as they all joined hands and the card was held between their palms.

"Thank you for the cake..." Fleur started and looked around at the students "I just wish I could give you something special."

She thought someone had hit her on the head. She felt the same way she did when she had taken the stopper out of one of the bottles on the counter and sniffed it. She didn't know what smelling salts were and she didn't know what they were supposed to do but she sure felt it when she sniffed them. But she also knew that she didn't do THAT again, yet she had the same 'jolt'. She was still connected to Enjolras by her right hand and Combeferre's on her left but nothing looked like the scabby walls and tables of the cafe. Even the cake was gone.

"Where are we?" Courfeyrac said and felt Gavroche's hand in his. That only happened when he was scared.

"Oh thank God." Grantaire said as he looked around.

"You recognise this place?!" Enjolras asked, Picking Nico up as he was afraid.

"No, I'm just glad someone else sees it." He said stroking Margurite's hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist, signing "I don't know" when she asked where they were.

"Rene!" Feuilly shouted and it stopped both twins in their tracks as they ran to the windows. Sometimes it worked to his advantage to have both boys with the same name. "Stay with me." he told them and took a hand each.

"Is this where the king lives?" Fleur asked Combeferre.

Enjolras laughed. "As if we'd be allowed anywhere he is." He listened to the people around him. "'Taire..." he said. "it's some form of English, Oui?" they were the only two who had taken the language in school but it wasn't exactly like this. "Fleur...let me see that thing." he said, seeing some other people had the same thing in various colours and patterns.

"Next?" the lady said and a man patted Enjolras on the shoulder and pointed to the counter.

"Mr..." the lady stammered and reached for the card.

"Enjolras." he said. "I'm sorry, our English..." he shrugged.

"This is all we need." she took the credit card from him and swiped it. "How many people? Large family!" she smiled. She was dressed funny, everyone was. Enjolras looked at everyone, maybe THEY were the funny dressed ones. "Are you doing a show tonight?" she asked Enjolras as she punched funny buttons on the desk. "Just finished one? You have no luggage, are you traveling by bus? I'll give you a parking pass for the large vehicles..." she slipped a page into the folder. Their strange clothing made her figure that they were part of a role play society. "Okay, you're all set. There is suite with a king size bed and sofabed and there are adjoining suites on either side. She fastened a wrist band on him and called the others forward. "Whose child belongs to who?" she asked, though it was obvious. She clipped one on Nico's wrist. "Same number.." she showed Enjolras that his band matched Nico's and the others came forward. "Oh! Twins!" she said to Feuilly. "So, if you leave the kids somewhere..." she explained with hand gestures and pointed to the various activities around the resort for children. "You have to show your wrist band to claim them again. Here is your bonus $500 for a large party booking...All set." she handed the folder to Enjolras Welcome to the Disneyland resort!" she smiled.

"What do we do?" Courfeyrac whispered.

"Same as everyone else." Combeferre said.

"Food!" Gavroche said as he saw the long table outside that people were helping themselves to. He broke from Courfeyrac and ran over, then stopped when he got there to see people...almost naked jumping into water that was so blue it gave Grantaire's eyes a run for its money. "Whoah!" he said as Courfeyrac ran to catch him.

"It's okay." another lady dressed like the one behind the counter told him. Kids are excited here. Yes, you can have some!" she told him. Gavroche needed no English to know that he had her blessing and reached out but Courfeyrac pulled him back to the group.

"I found out how it works." Enjolras said. "This one is bigger and more sophisticated than in Paris but..." he led them to the elevator. A few of them knew how to work it and they had to go in a few groups because they wouldn't all fit in one. "It's all to do with these cards..." Enjolras said, pointing to the cards the adults all had. You can do anything..." he said and slid the card by the door then turned the knob. Everyone filed in and stood in silence to see where they were.

"Can we go back to the food?" Gavroche asked.

"Nobody is going anywhere until we know where we are..." Enjolras said and put all the paperwork on the table for him and Grantaire to pour over.

"I have to peepee." Nico said.

"Ah!" Rene Un said. Being as they got out of Sainte Michel every evening he knew what was behind the door. It was way fancier than what they were used to but they were getting used to the fact that everything was going to be. He showed Nico the flush toilet and suddenly all the children had to use it. Enjolras and Grantaire were stumbling over the English words and wildly coloured pictures in the brochures.

"'Taire..." Enjolras tapped the top of the printout he was handed. "2012"

"2012 what?" Grantaire asked.

"Septembre..." he dragged his finger across the similar word. "27, 2012"

"How..?"

"No idea."

"I don't feel well..." Grantaire said, starting to sweat and shake. He had been awhile without a drink, he could cut down but he couldn't suddenly stop, especially not now when he was one of the two who could read things. The kids had been in every closet and cabinet already.

"This is frere Georges' wine." Fleur said and gave it to Margurite to take to him.

'Ah, merci belle fille." he said and somehow managed to open it.

"Your room key or wrist scan bracelet makes it convenient to buy without carrying cash." Enjolras translated "All purchases and services will automatically be charged to your Gold card...Fleur...again?" he held out his hand. She took it from her sock and handed it to him.

"It's not gold." Courfeyrac said.

"They seem to think it is." Combeferre said. "It's hot here..." he said, taking off his jacket.

"I wish we could dress like them." Gavroche pointed out the window down onto the pool.

"It looks like we can." Prouvaire said, hearing the welcome info again. "They gave us this, too." he held up the cash. "Let's see what it buys."

Prouvaire and Combeferre took the children down to the shopping plaza as Feuilly and Courfeyrac stripped down to almost nothing and lay on the lounge chairs on the balcony. One by one, articles of clothing were cast aside. Enjolras and Grantaire continued to pour over the papers, well, Enjolras did, Grantaire just continued to drink and help Enjolras with the odd word he didn't recognise.

When his brain got tired, Enjolras got up from the table and stretched, opening the fridge and looking at the drinks. "How the hell are ou supposed to open these?" he looked at a can of Coke. Through trial, he got it open and took a drink, shuddering at the sweetness and burping with the carbon. Not impressed, he unwrapped one of the glasses and poured himself some of Grantaire's wine. He took off his red coat and boots and lay back on one of the beds. He was still not sure of where they were or how they got there. It had everything to do with the card, he knew that by now and at least they were all together but how did they get back to Paris? That was his last thought before lapsing into sleep.

When he awoke, he was roasting and took off his shirt. Nico was napping beside him dressed in the colourful clothes with pictures on them like everyone else. His hair was wet, or had been and he smelled odd, like the stuff Combeferre cleaned cuts with. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked Nico, smoothing his hair back. "Then why do you smell like medicine?" he asked.

"The baths." Nico said."It all smells like medicine. Combeferre says it keeps it clean."

Enjolras swung his legs over the side of the bed. The floor was so clean and smooth he didn't feel the need to put his boots on so he just padded to the lavatory in his stocking feet then followed the voices out to the huge balcony connected to the room.

"Welcome!" Courfeyrac said. He had gotten into other things in the cupboard. Grantaire had finished the wine and was passed out in another of the beds. The rest of the adults found out poolside that they need only ask for any food or drink they wanted and someone would bring it. "To Paradise!" he giggled and poured Enjolras a drink.

"What are you guys wearing?" Enjolras grinned and tasted the drink. "What are you DRINKING?"

"That is the..." Feuilly looked on the menu "...mai tai."

"Speaking of ties and the like..." Prouvaire said, even though Enjolras had abandoned his shirt and tie "...here." he passed him a bag. It had a white t-shirt with a picture on it, colourful shorts and sandals. "We dressed Grantaire, he'll be surprised when he wakes up." they laughed. They had pulled his clothes off of him while in a stupor and dressed him in shorts and a t-shirt.

"Why is this stupid looking rat everywhere?" Enjolras pointed to the picture on Grantaire's shirt. "And why are all those people screaming?" he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

"That we'll look into tomorrow.." Courfeyrac said and pointed down to the ant-sized people filing in the gates. "But there are people going in and people coming out so it can't be dangerous. "Are you hungry mon frere?" he asked Enjolras. "While the children sleep, come..." he guided him out the door and down to the main floor. "We can have all we want." he pointed to the buffet then led him to a table. The foods were odd looking, but most of them good and Enjolras was sure the last time he had that much to eat had been at a crappy society ball. This was great with all the food but no social obligations. "They can't understand us." Courfeyrac said. Some speak some sort of French but they can't understand me." They could talk freely of the observations they had made. "Kids can't have wine, we learned that and...you'll notice a difference the way the women dress here...or rather don't dress." he nodded towards some scantily clad women at the buffet table taking to-go orders.

"Good God!" Enjolras said. "Are they whores?"

"I don't think so. Some swim in those clothes, others just lie in the chairs." Courfeyrac said and drank some water. "This is safe everywhere, too." he held up his glass. And look..." he tapped at an ice cube with his finger. "It's water. No idea." he said before Enjolras asked a question.

"Well, there's the cold closet up there, that keeps things pretty cold, they must have something colder yet."

"What do you think happened, Enj?" he asked.

"Don't know...I'm in law, not...science or whatever this is." he said. "So far it doesn't seem like it has hurt anyone, I'm just worried how to get back to Paris." he explained, his cheeks going rosy as one of the ladies in the small bikini walked by them.

"We're going back in the baths." Gavroche and Nico appeared at Enjolras and Courfeyrac's sides. "Why don't you come in." Gavroche said.

"I can't swim." Enjolras explained and Courfeyrac reminded Gavroche that he couldn't either.

"You don't need to." Gavroche said. "There's places there's not much water, come on." he led Courfeyrac and jumped in. The water was only up to his shoulders so the men got in without fear. "Come on, Nico." Enjolras picked him up and carried him into the water that would have been over his head.

"It's not as deep over there." Nico pointed and Enjolras carried him so that he could stand up on his own. There were spigots that they could swing around and squirt each other as Courfeyrac got an inflatable ring and sat Gavroche in it and pulled him afternoon wore on, eventually everyone was down there.

"Are you going to jump in?" Prouvaire asked Minette and she shook her head. She was sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. "Why not?" he asked.

"It's cold." she said.

"But it's hot out here, it'll feel good." he pointed out and stood in the water in front of her. "Come on..." he held out his arms. "I'll pull you around awhile." She jumped to him then lay on her tummy as he pulled her by the arms.

"So...how did we get here?" One of the Renes asked the adults as they sat and ate. They took their meals back up to the room, away from the dining room and hundreds of other patrons.

"That's about the only thing we don't know." Grantaire said. He had said nothing about the new clothes they had put him in but he must have noticed because the fabric was brighter and lighter weaves.

"How long can we stay?" Minette asked.

"That's the other thing we don't know." Combeferre laughed. By rights they should still be scared but they were tired. Perhaps there would be more answers in the morning.

While the 'where are we and what are we going to do?' question was still very much on the minds of all of the adults, the kids were all still enjoying everything new. The cards and wristbands were getting them just about anything they wanted.

The night didn't cool off much, the kids were all tucked into the various beds, the Renes in one, Gavroche and Nico in the other. Minette and Fleur in one and Peep was sleeping on one of the lounge chairs on the balcony as the adults sat around and talked. There was no way Grantaire could have carried her to bed so the convinced him to leave her there, they'd bring her in when they finished so Grantaire staggered to bed. All of the students jumped when the first bang of the fireworks started. They weren't strangers to them, though and they were more concerned about the children waking up but if they did, they could just join them out on the balcony. The students smiled as they watched the sky light up. They sat for awhile more on the balcony, listening to the people screaming and then it was time they all turned in. Courfeyrac picked up Peep and put her in one of the smaller single beds close to Grantaire but he knew she'd be in with Grantaire by morning. It was the main reasons the guys had drastically changed what they now wore to bed.

"Bonne Nuit" Courfeyrac said to his friends and he peeled his shirt off and just went to bed in his board shorts, the others more or less did the same thing in various beds in the three rooms to their suites. He had already dozed off when he felt the bed weigh down beside him and instinctively he moved to the side.

"Was there fighting outside?" Gavroche asked him, lying his head on the pillow.

"Mmmno." Courfeyrac said.

"Why were there cannons?" he asked. It scared him because he saw the lights, heard the noise and heard no sound from the balcony for awhile. Everyone had stopped talking, were they okay?

"They weren't cannons, Gav." Courfeyrac whispered but turned to face him, understanding now that he had been frightened. "They were fireworks. Have you seen fireworks?" he asked and Gavroche nodded. That was one thing the rich couldn't take away from the poor. Anything that appeared in the sky...a balloon, lightning, fog, it could all be enjoyed by the poor. "Nothing to be scared about, did anyone else wake up?" he asked and Gavroche shrugged. "Well, don't say anything to them. Enjolras said there's going to be more tomorrow." he told him and pushed his hair out of his face. It was already kissed by the sun and streaked various shades of blonde.

"Do you think 'Ponine is scared?" he asked. "She would notice us gone."

"Yes." Courfeyrac said. "All of them will be wondering where the hell we are by now. They would just have gotten to the cafe and we were all gone. They wouldn't think anything of it for the first while." he sighed. "But it has been a long time, they must be missing us now."

"It's beautiful here but..." Gavroche said and lay closer to Courfeyrac.

"I know, Gav." Courfeyrac said and gathered him up in his arms. "Hold close." he said and kissed the top of his head. He could feel a few hot tears against him. It would surprise people how often Gavroche cried. It was something he saved for when he was in the top floor of his elephant. Now he lived at the cafe and the students were a bit more privy to how being alone and parentless affected the children.


	3. Fish Out Of Water

**A/N - Thank you everyone for feedback and reviews. Let's continue to have some fun, shall we? Again, I don't want to hear from any physics experts or sci-fi geeks telling me how utterly impossible and ridiculous this is. I know that.**

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease..." Minette said the next morning in the gift shop in the lobby, hugging a green Tinkerbelle dress with wings on the back and spinning around in front of Prouvaire.

"Maybe later." Prouvaire said. "We're going to eat and then we're going to the place where everyone screams..." he pointed towards the park "...when we come back from there..."

"Where are the boys?" Courfeyrac looked around for Nico, the Renes and Gavroche.

"Oh where do you think?" Enjolras asked and pointed to the buffet line.

"They're going to eat themselves sick." Combeferre said. He had Fleur by the hand and hoped that she had heard not to eat too much. If there was anything the last day showed was that she was quite the tomboy and wouldn't be outdone by any of the boys.

As predicted, Rene Deux patted Courfeyrac on the shoulder. "Gavroche is in the bathroom going...blech." he imitated throwing up.

"Thanks." Enjolras said "For that splendid charade." he looked for Nico to see if he'd be next then went over to the buffet line as Courfeyrac got up and went to the bathroom. "How many of those have you had?" he asked as Nico reached for pancakes and shrugged. "How many did Gavroche have?" he asked and Nico shrugged again. Enjolras put one more pancake on his plate then led him back to the table.

"Did you at least get here in time?" Courfeyrac asked through the stall door. "Let me in."

"Yes." Gavroche gasped as the session came to a close. Courfeyrac stepped out and wet a paper towel then held it to Gavroche's face, he had seen this happen before.

"Gav, I told you, you never have to binge eat again." he said gently. "You don't have to hoard food or shovel it in, I will always make sure you have food." He couldn't promise Gavroche the comforts he'd had when he was his age but food, love and shelter were simple things. "Need to lie down awhile?" he asked.

"No, I'm hungry again." Gavroche said. One thing about all the kids, they were so used to feeling crappy that they could function fairly well unless they needed to ham it up to get out of doing something they didn't want to do.

"Maybe some juice or bread for now?" Courfeyrac offered.

The rest of breakfast went without incident, the kids had learned their lesson. They had never seen that much food for free before and had no idea what could happen if you ate too much. Soon they joined the throng of people heading up the sidewalk to the park.

"Now where are the boys?"" Fuielly asked.

"Waaaaaay up there!" Fleur pointed up the sidewalk where they were turned around shouting for everyone else to catch up. "Those are stupid looking hats with the black dots on them." she pointed to the mouse ear hats. "Frere-Yvan, why does everyone want to look like a rat here?" she swung on Combeferre's arm and he shrugged.

Grantaire had filled his 'water' bottle to take with him to the park as he was pretty sure they weren't going to be serving wine in there. He smiled at Peep as she pointed to everything and tried to repeat their words.

The crowds were starting to intimidate Minette and she held her arms up to Jean Prouvaire. "For now..." he said, feeling the morning heat already. "...but you're going to walk for a lot of it or we're turning back." he told her as he picked her up as Feuilly, Enjolras and Courfeyrac shouted for the boys to wait for them when they got to the wickets.

"Merde!" Courfeyrac said when he looked at the rates. "This better come with a pocket of gold!" he said.

"Family rate..." Grantaire read and went to the wicket. "Who...how much is a family?" he asked the girl in the wicket.

"Are you all dads and kids?" the lady asked quickly and Grantaire nodded She spoke quickly in an English he wasn't familiar with, he just took a guess at the right answer. It was good he had been the one to approach the wicket. Enjolras had this annoying habit of usually telling the truth. "Each couple can have two kids."

"Couple?" Grantaire said. "No...you see..." he laughed at the thought.

"Yes, okay." Enjolras said and called Nico back. He and Grantaire made one family. Courfeyrac and Prouvaire pulled Gavroche and Minette forward. "I have twins..." Feuilly pointed out.

"Oh, you can pair up then." she said and pointed to Combeferre and Fleur and punched the numbers into the machine. "And...that's on your gold card?" she asked and took the card from Enjolras. "Everyone?" she asked and Enjolras nodded. "Okay then. Have fun!" she handed out the passes and pointed towards the gates. As soon as they were all through, the boys ran ahead again.

"Stop!" Courfeyrac shouted at them. This time, they took the boys' hands. "We...have no idea where we are." he explained to them, though it was obviously a small city, he looked at the stores up and down the street. "We'll have no idea where to find you if you get lost...you stick close." he said, shaking Gavroche by the hand to be sure he understood and would obey. "If we have to come looking for you ONCE..." he warned. "...we're going back there..." he pointed to the direction of the hotel. "...and that's it!" he told them. It was true, he didn't know where they were but they could tell by the smiles and laughter, there was some fun to be had and they all needed to relax. There were a lot of people with children and the children were hyper. Their children fed off of that and were hard to contain.

"Follow them but hang on to my hand." Enjolras told Nico and the other men told their waifs the same thing. Grantaire would have had more of a challenge but for the fact that Margurite had no idea what they were doing. She pointed to the candy floss a child was holding and eating. It looked like fabric, obviously edible and she was anxious to try it. Feuilly took some of the money out of his pocket and bought a few for the kids to share as well as the men tried it. Some liked it, some did not. Some it was the sweetness that turned them off, others it was the texture. Cotton wool was not meant to be eaten, no matter how sweet it was. As they walked along they turned to the right and the boys gasped when they saw the rocket ride.

"Nobody is screaming, it looks fun." Rene Un said with as much plead in his voice as possible and they lined up. Grantaire stayed on the ground. The motion of them didn't appeal to him and he would be the holder of bags and occasionally children who didn't want to go on certain rides. It wasn't often that the children stayed back though because a lot of the rides were indoors and they had no idea what they were facing. Grantaire looked up and waved at his 'family' as they went 'round and 'round and even the adults became children...as does everyone in that park.

"What does that mean?" Fleur pointed at a sign on the front of a ride.

"Space..." Grantaire said and thought about many meanings of the word. "...it could be anything, Fleur." he told her. "Mountain - mont." he translated. Only Gavroche, Nico and Fleur were tall enough so they went in with Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Combeferre.

"Where the hell did they go?" Feuilly asked when they didn't come back for ages. "People are coming out again so we know there's no back door...and they wouldn't be that stupid." he knew they would come back to the same place. They walked around in the area of the ride so they could be found. The children were wriggly at the shop, they wanted everything but they would buy nothing until everyone was together. Finally they heard familiar voices behind them.

"Nico, I don't want to go again...the line up!" Enjolras said. He really had enjoyed himself, they all did but it was one very long, slow moving line up. "It takes a long time to get moving." he explained to those he had left behind as Nico was begging Feuilly to go on with him. "Take him...please." Enjolras begged before Nico worked hard enough to make him go a second time. He took over with Minette and Feuilly went back to Space Mountain with Nico. They had lost track of Combeferre, Fleur, Gavroche and Courfeyrac. They only just guessed that they were in there somewhere.

"There are some things over there, they go under the water, I was going to take the younger ones on there but didn't want to go far." Grantaire said, liking the fact that the submarines didn't go in the air. They were all getting comfortable that everything was making people smile and laugh so it must have all been safe. They felt it was a good idea, rather than have everyone wait for everyone, especially since the others, it appeared would have had no problem spending the rest of the day in the line up and riding Space Mountain.

They found a lot of things for the younger kids, everyone was fascinated because they'd never seen statues that moved and talked before. The men were relaxing a bit and letting the boys find their own space as long as they stuck relatively close. As they were sitting in a faux ranchero setting enjoying a cool drink, Gavroche led Marguerite back to the guys and she ran to Grantaire. "What happened?" he asked, taking a drink out of his water bottle, cuddling her while she cried and pointed.

"What'd you do?" Courfeyrac asked him. The boys had many games to scare the girls but they rarely picked on Marguerite because it was 'no fun'. Because she couldn't hear, she was even more vulnerable to pranks so it really wasn't funny.

"Nothing." Gavroche said.

"So she just started crying for no reason..." Grantaire said.

"There's something over there, walking like a person but it's big...and...furry." Gavroche tried to describe it. "I tried to take her over there..."

"Gavroche - she's younger than you and it sounds pretty weird." Grantaire said.

"No-no...kids are running to it and hugging it. People are holding up those strange boxes and ... You know..." they had no idea those things were cameras. Cameras were big and cumbersome, you had to sit for a very long time to get a picture. "Nico and the Renes are there now." he said. "Come on Peep..." he begged Marguerite to come back. "...everyone is smiling and having fun." he waved her back and Grantaire got up with them to go back and see what it was that Gavroche was on about while the others sat and talked.

"What the..." Grantaire said when they got closer to the 6' Winnie the Pooh. Gavroche had been right though, all of the children were enjoying themselves.

"...no idea..." he said to Marguerite who was asking what it was. "Look!" he pointed to the children hugging him and edged his way closer. When Winnie saw her he waved her over and Grantaire motioned that she was deaf. Marguerite gave him a bit of a hug but really wasn't comfortable until Grantaire had picked her up again.

There was screaming all around and everyone got used to it being a happy sound. Combined with the noise of the rides, and the fact that most of the time they heard screaming closeby it was THEIR kids (and Combeferre and Courfeyrac) on a ride somewhere. They got filthy, they got soaked but the kids never got tired. "Is this one fast?" Enjolras asked someone coming off a ride. They were determined to get Grantaire on something other than the baby ones. The teacups may have been a good one but NOBODY was going to put him on something that spun.

"No, just boats." the person said.

"There, just boats, 'Taire." he told him and they got in the long, snaking line that kept them in the sun for twenty minutes. Enjolras helped translate for a little boy Gavroche was talking to. It was slow going but he got a bit of detail on the ride and could see that it couldn't be that bad, the kid had been on it a few times already.

The first sights of the pirates amused them, just more talking statues. Real pirates didn't look like that. A few of them had even seen real pirates and Minette and Nico had been up close and personal with them at sea until they moved to Paris and illness took their parents. Gavroche jumped when the first cannonball was fired and when one of them 'hit the water', Minette clutched around Prouvaire and buried her head in his shoulder. "It's okay, it's just the statues right?" he said but she even tried to climb onto his lap. "Okay." he said, wrapping both arms around her as she sat in her seat beside him "Hold close." he said and stroked her angel hair and kissing the top of her head. He nodded with his head towards Nico. Enjolras hadn't noticed, he was watching the pirates and everything going on so he didn't realise that Nico had his hands over his ears and his head pretty much between his knees. Enjolras put his hand on Nico's back and rubbed it.

"Just pretend, right?" he bent down and whispered to him, kissing the top of his head a few times. "Just like going to the theatre." One of the things that the creators of all these things would never have considered was that there would be children who would be a bit more familiar with these things than most.

Grantaire managed to keep Marguerite busy looking at all the different things and the rest of the kids enjoyed the views and effects. They were ALL talking about it in one form or another as they walked out of the building. Nico had no coat of Enjolras' to hang onto so he had a death grip on his hand even though they were out in daylight again and things were a bit more familiar. No more pirates or cannonballs. Prouvaire was carrying Minette and she was inconsolable. "Nettie..." Prouvaire said. "...stop now, you're okay." he rubbed her back. "I'm sorry, I never thought about it. You're tired." he said to her and she nodded. "You want to go back and have a sleep?" he asked her and she nodded again. A few of the kids were looking tired. They played harder today than at home. "Anyone else need a nap?" he asked the group and Grantaire put his hand up. Marguerite didn't know it but she was tired, too and they knew when she got into a bed, she would pass out.

"Not me!" Fleur said to Combeferre, who also had no intention of going back to the hotel. "There's all the other part we haven't seen yet...where people REALLY scream." she pointed to the other park. It was the roller coaster they'd been hearing mostly and a lot of them were dying to get at it. The arrangement was made that the nappers would go back to the hotel for the late afternoon then everyone would head back for supper.

"I'm not carrying you all the way." Prouvaire said to Minette and once they were far away from the pirates, he put her on the ground and took her hand. Grantaire was starting to get a headache. His bottle had been empty for awhile and the sun was high in the sky. None of them bought hats so it zapped them of energy.

"Why is it so cold in here?" Prouvaire asked as they got into their room. "It's coming from here..." he put his hand next to the air conditioner. "Feels good." he sighed and lifted his hair off the back of his neck to let the air hit his skin.

"When do I get my fairy dress?" Minette yawned as she lay down.

"Maybe after we eat. The money will come to an end eventually." Prouvaire said. He suddenly realised how tired HE was and lay down on the bed, feeling Minette lie her head on his shoulder.

"I like this place." Minette said. "Do you like this place?"

"Mmm...while we're here." Prouvaire said. "Don't get used to it though, we still don't know anything about it."

Grantaire had a good drink of wine then lay back on the bed where Marguerite was already asleep. She did NOT deserve a staggering alcoholic guardian but she took it all in stride. He gave a soft smile and kissed her forehead. This was not a good time to consider quitting drinking. Nobody knew what was in their future, maybe it was too little too late but at least he took care of her and didn't abandon her.

At California Adventure Park, the party went on. They branched into smaller groups and hit every ride multiple times. Combeferre was totally impressed with Fleur's bravery. She screamed like a girl but she didn't back down from any challenge whether it was flying upside down on the roller coaster, dropping down the tower or getting drenched on the water ride.

Finally the adults relaxed enough to just sit on benches and wait for the kids while they ran around and around the line ups. "I think it's time to go back." Courfeyrac said when the kids came back to them and Gavroche was shivering in the setting sun. Amongst the whines, they walked across the plaza and back to the hotel.

"Can we come back tomorrow?" Fleur asked.

"Mon Dieu, Fleur." Combeferre said "We don't know where we are or how we got here and you want to STAY?" he asked. He had to admit that it had been a very comfortable distraction from home but once back at the hotel, they would all see that it wasn't as benign as it had felt that day.

"Gavroche." Courfeyrac said back in the hotel. The room was cooler than it had been when they left and it would soon be warmer outside than in. He handed a thick towel to him. "Get out of those clothes." he filled the bath tub warm and they dumped the boys in there for a warm up before Fleur got the whole tub to herself. She lit up when she saw the bottle of bubblebath with the fairy on the label.

"There's one on the lid, too but Minette has it." Prouvaire said it, pointing to where she was asleep with it still in her hand.

"That's okay, she can keep it." Fleur said, knowing how much Minette loved fairies. "Maybe it's Belle Fee." she shrugged. Everyone knew about Belle Fee but they didn''t know the stories. Those were for a private audience.

"There is NO decent food around here!" Combeferre despaired about the lack of anything for the kids to snack on that wasn't fat and junky. The kids weren't used to eating this rich and Gavroche had eaten himself sick at breakfast time. He had recovered quickly but with a harsh warning to not do that again.

"Don't put them in night clothes..." Grantaire said. He had woken up in sweats and had to replenish his blood alcohol. He poured more wine into his water bottle. "...there's something else at the park."

"The park?" Prouvaire said as the kids cheered. "Ah yes! he remembered the fireworks. "You think it'll happen again?" he asked and saw Enjolras tap the plastic stand on the table with the timetable of functions.

"Oui." Enjolras said. We have to go back there soon." he and Grantaire were the only ones who could read and knew the day wasn't over and that was one of the reasons the little ones needed to rest.

The park had a different feel in the evening. The men even lost sight of one another in the crowds and darkness. As long as each one had their kid, they didn't panic. None of them had seen this many people gathered and not be angry about something. They lost track of Courfeyrac, Gavroche, Combeferre and Fleur and assumed they were headed off to the rides again. Only Gavroche and Courfeyrac knew what was going to happen and they could watch them from first firework that burst over the castle startled everyone. Fleur briefly screamed at the bang of the firework and clutched around Combeferre's waist. They had all jumped, it sounded like cannon and gunfire until they saw the light raining down in the sky. Fireworks they were familiar with. Not in that abundance but they had seen and they knew it always came with joy. The four in the ride line up had a decision to make - whether to abandon the line they'd waited in or watch the fireworks from where they were. Luckily, many people abandoned the line, it moved quickly and they were able to stay where they were and watch part of the fireworks from the ride itself.

Everyone had stood with their heads tilted up to the sky and gave a big cheer at the finale. Even Enjolras was as happy as anyone had ever seen him by the time it was over and the people started filing towards the gates. "Let's go, Nico." he called and held out his hand as the little boy was still in amazement, watching the sky in hopes that there would be one more. Prouvaire had Minette on his shoulders and wasn't going to put her down. It was a mess of people and he'd only lose her in the crowd. Feuilly had each twin by the hand and tried to follow behind Enjolras. It was easier when he had his red coat on, they could always find him. Grantaire reached to take Margurite's hand and looked from one side of him to the other.

"Oh shit." he said, spinning around in a circle to see if she was behind him. When was the last time he remembered seeing her? He remembered feeling her jump beside him when the first bang went off. It was loud enough for her to hear, did she run? That wasn't likely, she stuck close to her people and especially him. His water bottle was half empty, this meant he was more than half drunk. "Shit shit shit...Margurite!" he called, looking around. Why was he calling? She wasn't going to hear. "Enjolras, do you have Margurite?" he shouted. Enjolras shook his head but stopped in his tracks to think of the little girl being lost in this sea of people. Even if she COULD hear she didn't speak the language. "I have to go find her." Grantaire said. "Oh my God!" he lamented to himself, holding his palm to his forehead "think think think..." he said to himself. This was the closest he had come to panic in a hell of a long time. Feuilly appeared beside him with the twins. "I've lost Margurite." he said to him.

"Take Nico back to the hotel." Enjolras told him. He could help better if he didn't have another child to worry about.

"She wouldn't have gone too far..." Grantaire said, almost in tears. "Just walk up this side to the castle and back I guess, go into the stores. I'll do the same on the other side." he looked around. It was dark, they'd be swimming upstream against all of the people leaving the park...what a mess. He watched Enjolras head off along his side of the street. Once he had lost sight of him, he was totally alone. If he'd been sober, would he have lost her? She was so trusting of him, did she know what a mess he was? He didn't even notice himself pushing through the people, perhaps he was being rude, he wasn't in his right mind. He was sure that if she was lost, she would head somewhere to sit and wait. She wasn't the type to get hyper but she usually just sat and had a good cry.

Enjolras poked his head into the door of a few of the shops. "You..." he said to the cashier. "...have seen a little girl?" he held his hand up to indicate how tall.

"Lost?" the cashier asked and nodded. She got on a strange looking thing that answered when she spoke into it. Security at the hotel had one, too and Enjolras wondered where the hell the people on the other end were. "The ice cream palace, two doors down." she told him. He didn't really understand what she meant but she pointed, smiled and nodded, he knew to just follow along. Finally, he heard her. She had no vocabulary but she had lungs. She was sitting at the table in the ice cream palace with her head in her arms, sobbing. There were people standing all around, one was rubbing her back, one was smoothing her hair down, maybe some were aware that she couldn't hear but others were trying to talk to her.

"Margurite?" Enjolras said, going closer. "She can't hear." he said to everyone and they let him closer. He bent down and whispered to the side of her head. "I'm here, Bebe." he said. She looked up and locked her arms around his neck, leaning her head on his shoulder, continuing to sob and he knew she would until she saw Grantaire.

"Are you her father?" someone asked.

"No..." Enjolras didn't know how to explain. "Uncle?" he offered and a staff member looked at his bracelet and hers. He didn't need to know much of the language to know that it would be a problem, they didn't match. He couldn't leave her to go find Grantaire, she wouldn't understand but they wouldn't let him leave with her. "You come with me?" he said to the park staff member who was checking the bracelets. If anyone could see the great leader of the revolutionaries reduced to speaking in two and three word sentences, they wouldn't have believed it.

"What's her father's name?" they asked. Enjolras shook his head for a moment, they weren't catching on. On the other hand, what difference did it make? "Grantaire." he said. "Georges Grantaire." he said and picked Margurite up, pointing towards the door for permission to go. The staff member walked beside him as they put a request to page Grantaire to the ice cream palace, though he may not understand. Maybe, just hearing his name loud overhead like they'd heard all day, he would know that they'd found her.

It worked. Grantaire stopped when he heard his name. He looked up and around. They learned that the speakers talked...even joked that Enjolras should get himself one of those. They gave the page in French and there was enough similar words to get "ice cream" and he knew where that was. He pushed his way back through the crowd, at least walking with an unsteady gait in the flow of pedestrians until he saw, walking up the sidewalk to meet him was Enjolras carrying a still-bawling Margurite.

"Oh petit fille." he said, letting out a huge sigh of relief, holding his arms out to her and she climbed into them. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he kept saying as he held her close and the park staff checked his bracelet. "Merci..." he said to the staff as they left. Enjolras rubbed her back but she didn't care if anyone else was there and kept her arms around Grantaire's neck, crying into his neck as they walked out of the park. She wished she could explain what had happened. She was watching the fireworks, feeling them in her chest and loving it ... then it was over. The crowd began to disperse and she basically got swept along with them. She could see them start to look for her but couldn't call to them. Her vocabulary was just a series of sounds and she didn't know about volume. Eventually the crowd swept her away. She saw someone behind the counter of the store and slipped in beside her, crying. The lady didn't take long to figure out she was deaf and too little to write anything down.

On the way back to the hotel, they stopped and Enjolras bought a milkshake. "You want some of this?" he asked her and she sucked on the straw for a second, liking what she was tasting, finally taking the cup in her hands. When she felt how cold it was, it was like she was being burned. She had never felt anything so cold so she handed it back to Enjolras and let him hold it while she drank.

By the time they went through the door in the hotel suite, everyone was in a state of panic for Margurite. "Peep!" the kids called when they saw her safe and sound in Grantaire's arms. He put her on the ground and the kids swelled around her as he went over and sat on one of the beds, shakey and still a bit stunned by everything. It didn't go unnoticed by a few of the students but they had to get the kids settled into bed first. They were all so exhausted and it was late so it didn't take long before they were sound asleep. The men were tired, too but they were going to sit out on the balcony for awhile.

"Grantaire!" Combeferre called through the screen door. "Join us." he waved and Grantaire got off the bed, slid the door open and stepped out.

"I'm sorry..." he said, staggering to one of the lounge chairs but not sitting in it, just leaning against the balcony railing.

"Sorry for what?" Courfeyrac said. His exhaustion showed, he had been just as active as the children.

"I just about lost her." he buried his face in his arms and started quietly crying.

"It wasn't your fault, 'Taire." Enjolras said and went over to him. "You wouldn't have stopped looking until you found her, if it took waiting for the rest of the park to empty out. It's okay." he said and rubbed the back of his head and between his shoulder blades.

"You take such good care of her, 'Taire." Combeferre said.

"Why?" Grantaire asked. "She could have attached to anyone else..." he waved around at the circle of all of them.

"Why not?" Courfeyrac shrugged. "Nobody else can get smiles out of her, nobody can get her co-operation even though she can't hear..." he pointed out and went over to him as well. "Don't beat yourself up." he said and hugged him, feeling Grantaire sway and shake, still very upset.

"Aw, 'Taire, c'mon." Feuilly said, taking his place aswell beside him, rubbing his hair.

"Yeah, it all turned out okay." Prouvaire said, leaning over Courfeyrac's shoulder to say his part.

"I want to get out of here." Grantaire said miserably.

"I think we all do." Combeferre said, patting Grantaire's shoulder.

"Yeah, it has been interesting but I wish we could get back home to something more normal." Enjolras said.

"I'm just going to bed." Grantaire said and opened his eyes, still looking at the floor. The floor. The scabby old wooden floor of the Cafe Musain. The floor that they wouldn't dare walk on barefoot for fear of splinters and disease. He looked up and saw the other guys stunned, too as they looked around the dingy walls of the cafe. "Oh thank GOD." he said. They all stood and looked at each other for a split second before racing up the hallway to look in the bedrooms.

"Things are really freaky again..." Courfeyrac said as he found their room empty. Being as he was only dressed in a pair of shorts, he stopped to pull on the clothes that were hanging in the wardrobe. What he was going to do with the bright blue sorts was anyone's guess but they might come in handy for sleeping in. One thing was for certain, if they were going to be running around Sainte Michel looking for the kids, they were going to have to look a bit more like themselves.

"What are you guys doing?" Eponine's voice sounded up the hallway. She was sweeping the bedroom floors.

"The children..." Combeferre said. "...where are the children?"


	4. Rescue

**Okay, this is the last part of this little AU adventure. I just love Disneyland and figured it'd be funny to pull them out of their tension and drear and throw them somewhere that is NOT the normal every day life in 2012. As ever, don't lecture me about how this couldn't have happened...you'll only look foolish.**

"I thought the children were with you." Eponine shrugged. "Figured you had taken them for the day, maybe on a picnic or something."

"For the day?" Enjolras said. "We can't find them."

"Calm down." Eponine laughed. "It has only been a few hours, they're probably out driving the local merchants crazy." At least a few of the guys figured out that it hadn't been two days according to Sainte Michel time.

"Did you see any of them on your way over?" Courfeyrac asked. "The little ones, they rarely leave the place." he said of Minette and Margurite. Even Nico stayed indoors a fair bit or at least just hung around the doorway..

"No." Eponine said. "How come you guys aren't in school?" she asked the group. "Settle down, go to school and I'm sure the children will come home when they're hungry." she said. "Grantaire, you look like you slept in your clothes." she reached to straighten his tie. "You ALL slept in?" she asked them, looking at their book bags lying around the common room.

Marguerite was the first to wake up and notice that they were alone. She waited a bit, they couldn't be far and she dozed off again. When she awoke, the adults still weren't back so she went over to Fleur. She crawled in with her and it wasn't long until Fleur opened her green eyes. "Peep..." she said and shook her awake. "What are you doing here?" she was a bit disappointed to find that they were still there and it hadn't been a bad dream. She probably wouldn't have been homesick but for her new home for the past few months and all of her freres to love her. She got out of bed and went to join them on the balcony, they'd be out there with their morning coffee so they didn't wake the children.

"Mon freres?" she asked, sliding the door to the side and finding the balcony empty with watery drinks on the table. Grantaire's water bottle on the table was a giveaway that they weren't far. It was usually attached to his hand. "Gavroche." she said. "Come out here." she waved. "Where are they?" she whispered. "They would usually leave at least one here with us, even if was Frere Georges." Gavroche nodded.

"Everyone is hungry, let's go down to breakfast, maybe they're all there." he shrugged. They helped get the little ones ready then went down to the buffet.

"Maybe they went to see how we get home." Rene Deux said. "Do you think they'll get mad if we go to the park again?" he asked. They talked about it as they ate and decided it wouldn't be a bad idea. Well, actually, Gavroche and Fleur decided, the rest just went along with it. They wouldn't stay late because the little ones would get tired.

"Anything?" Combeferre asked whenever someone came up the stairs of the cafe. He stayed there in case someone came home.

"Nothing." Courfeyrac despaired and sat down exhausted. The kids knew their way around Sainte Michel almost better than the students, if they were anywhere near it, they would be back by now. One by one, each student came back from the area he was checking.

"They'll be BACK!" Eponine said, not knowing just what this involved. "They're playing a joke on you or something..."

"This is NOT a joke, 'Ponine." Courfeyrac said and groaned in frustration. Oh how could they explain it?

"Anyway, who needs laundry done?" she asked. She often did laundry and cooked meals.

"Yes please." Enjolras sighed, leaning his head in his hands. No matter how much they sat there and thought about it, there was no way they could think of what to do because they didn't understand any of it.

"Enj?" Eponine asked, coming out of his room with a pair of grey and white swimming shorts. "What...?" she had never seen anything like them before.

"Oh God." he said.

"Sit down, 'Ponine." Courfeyrac said.

"Maybe have this..." Grantaire poured her some wine while he switched to absinthe.

"These..." Enjolras took the shorts and something dropped out of the pocket. "...THIS!" he said "...was the start of it all." he said the paused. "Oh My God...what did she say?" he said. "Fleur, just before...what'd I say before we came back? I forgot it was in my pocket." he thought. He would have to use the exact words to get to the same place.

"You don't need that." Courfeyrac said. "You know exactly where we were."

"What are you talking about?" Eponine asked. "You barely had any time to go anywhere since I last saw you." she shook her head. "You're all a bit..." she said but the guys weren't really hearing her.

"What day was it, Grantaire?" Enjolras asked.

"It's 27th, Septembre..." Eponine said and the men stopped talking. Time really HAD sat still while they were gone. Where they had been, it would be well into the 29th.

"We need to go to the 29th so they're not left alone." said Combeferre.

"Left alone WHERE?" Eponine asked.

"Ponine..." Courfeyrac said and grabbed her by the wrist. "...there's only one way to explain and that's to show you. What was the place called?" he asked.

"Gavroche..." Fleur said, holding Margurite by one hand and Minette by the other. The boys stuck together but didn't hold hands. "...we can't go in there, you saw how Frere Georges and Frere Sylvain had to talk to the lady." she said.

"You've gone soft." Gavroche rolled his eyes, grabbed Margurite by the hand and bypassed the ticket wickets to the gates of the park. "Papa!" he called over the fence.

"Your father is in there?" the lady asked and Gavroche nodded, pointing to a crowd of people. "Well, hurry up so you don't get lost." she told him and swung the gate open. Gavroche gave a cheeky smile through the bars of the fence and disappeared around the corner. The children went to various gates and did the same thing, eventually they were all in. They kept their eyes open for any of the adults but that's not to say they didn't get distracted by the rides and attractions including the light show on the water after dark but before the fireworks.

"They HAVE to be back by now." Rene Un said as they went back across the plaza, again soaking wet and shivering from the water rides.

"What the hell?" Eponine asked when they ended up in the lobby again.

"Shit..." Courfeyrac said, realising that he didn't have the room key, it had been in his shorts and he had changed his clothes. Eponine followed him mutely to the elevator and watched as he worked it like a pro. She had never been out of the slums but to follow Marius, she had no idea what this stuff was. "Hopefully the kids are in there now." he said as they went to the suite door and knocked. He could hear that the fireworks were starting. Luckily, they weren't in any kind of a hurry because Eponine would never have seen a display like he could show her.

"'Ponine?" Gavroche said when he opened the door and saw his sister then looked beside her to see Courfeyrac. He didn't know who to grab first but Eponine leaned down and hugged him. "Where did you come from? He asked then looked at Courfeyrac "...and where have you been?" he asked, sticking his head out the door for the others.

"You went back!" Fleur said, realising not only was Eponine there but Courfeyrac was in his regular clothes. She rushed the door and jumped into Courfeyrac's arms, hugging him and the other kids ran to meet them, barely letting them through the door.

"Where IS this place?" Eponine asked, looking around and out the windows. Gavroche grabbed her hand and ran her out to the balcony so they could watch the rest of the fireworks.

"We'll explain it later." Courfeyrac picked Margurite off of the bed she had fallen asleep on. Without opening her eyes, she knew it wasn't Grantaire and if it wasn't him, she didn't care who it was, she just kept her head on his shoulder.

"Can we watch the fireworks?" Rene Deux said.

"I suppose, we're not racing time." Courfeyrac shrugged and they went out onto the balcony. Margurite could feel the percussion in her body and in Courfeyrac's body but she was NOT going to let go this time.

"How did you get home?" Fleur asked.

"Same way as we're going now." Courfeyrac said. "It's this..." he held up the card. "You brought us here..."

"...I didn't mean to." Fleur said.

"I know." Courfeyrac said. "And now that we know and we're going home, you have to admit it was a lot of fun."

"Can we come back?" one of the Renes asked.

"No!" Courfeyrac said. "If it were possible to leave this card here I would but we can't." Though it might not be a bad idea if things heated up in the slums to take the children somewhere and set them up, going back to visit. He'd run that by Enjolras but the answer would probably be 'no'. There were places in Paris, if they really worked hard that they could evacuate the kids to, it would be closer to visit and not as iffy to get back to. But now they were a family now and they would really miss the children if and when they would be evacuating them. "Okay, Fleur, you started it, you know what to do."

The children looked so out of place when they appeared back in the cafe in their brightly coloured clothes and bare feet. The floor of the cafe was brutal and spintery and Combeferre was forever picking slivers out of feet. All of the guys were adamant that the kids don't walk around barefoot but how could they stop them from running to them? It hadn't been but a moment, Paris time but that was a long moment and none of them were sure they had it figured out yet. For all they knew, they had lost the children and now Courfeyrac and Eponine, too.

Margurite missed the whole thing, being asleep on Courfeyrac's shoulder. "Where's Grantaire?" Courfeyrac asked.

"I think he's in his room, fretting." Combeferre said.

Grantaire was, indeed in his room fretting. There hadn't been enough time to get hammered drunk but he was making an honest attempt by switching from wine to liqueur. Why he didn't have the faith that they'd be back, he didn't know. He knew now that it was possible and he had all confidence in Courfeyrac and Eponine it was just...when the going got tough, the tough got drinking. It was what he did, it was what he knew. He heard the hullabaloo when the children got back and jumped up off the bed and threw his door open just as Courfeyrac was coming up the hallway. Courfeyrac raised a shushing finger to his lips as he carried the sleeping Margurite. "Want your baby?" he whispered. Grantaire didn't know if he should take her or not.

"I promised I'd take care of her." he whispered, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry, Peep." he said...but before he could say another word, Margurite woke up and twisted around in Courfeyrac's arms and jumped into Grantaire's.

"I think she thinks you're doing a good job." Courfeyrac said.


	5. Alkie

**A/N What did Grantaire drink that drove him crazy? As ever, the rating of this is for strong language. (And warning to queasy stomachs, Grantaire pukes a few times but there are no pictures LOL.)**

"The police have Grantaire." Gavroche announced, running to the upstairs of the cafe and alerting the guys who were there. For all the efforts Gavroche made to avoid Javert, occasionally he caught up with him. He was a particular favourite pick-upon of Javert's because of his parents. Nobody really knew the reason behind the inspector's loathe for the poor but it was as though when things got boring at the desk job he now held, his favourite pastime was going down to Sainte Michel and pestering the peasants. He stayed away from the cafe though. The people there were educated, well read and not very easily intimidated. He wouldn't even hassel the students as they were coming and going but the few conversations he had with any of them usually included him saying he didn't understand why the students would immerse themselves in such filth. Maybe he was begging them to ask him about his own story but nobody did. Gavroche couldn't find Courfeyrac, the one he usually headed to but he found Jean Prouvaire and Joly.

"Grantaire!" Prouvaire said. "What on earth would they keep him for?" he wondered.

"I don't know but Javert said you better come quickly." Gavroche said. Prouvaire ran to follow him while Joly went back in to the cafe to tell the others. Wherever they were being taken to, the students always took Gavroche (or in a bind, another child) with them to serve as an info officer. If they needed to relay any information, Gavroche could get back and forth easily, hitching rides on carriages and the like.

The noises coming from the small cell area when Prouvaire entered the precinct made it sound like a zoo. Peoples' crimes were petty in that area and the time they spent detained was only reflective of how merciful the arresting officer was. If he were in a good mood, they were detained for only a little while. If he was having a bad day, someone may be in there for a week. Grantaire was one of the lucky ones that day. The cell he was in was deluxe. It had a bed and an actual pot so previous 'guests' hadn't urinated in the corner. Prouvaire followed the clerk down the hall and looked through the bars at his passed out friend. "Oh 'Taire, what did you do?" he asked under his breath. "Gavroche!" he shouted. "Can you go back to the cafe and tell someone to give you fresh clothes for him?" he said and sent the boy on his way. There was no sense in him seeing Grantaire in this shape. "What did he do?" he asked the officer.

"Just went nuts, actually." the officer said. "Something got to his brain, they found him babbling and sometimes totally out of his mind. Started attacking people. We can release him if there's someone to take him..."

"Attacking people? I'll take him once Gavroche gets back." Prouvaire said

"...to the hospital." the officer continued.

"Hospital?" Prouvaire asked. "Let me see him." he pointed to the door with the lock on it.

"He's dangerous."

"Dangerous!" Prouvaire laughed. "He's drunk. And he has been drunk for years. I'm just going to take him home. Please, let me in to see him." It may have sounded funny but Grantaire was not a dangerous drunk, something else must have happened. Prouvaire was laughing because it was bizarre, not funny.

"I won't take any responsibility." the officer said.

"None." Prouvaire promised. "I'll take the full blame." and the locks clinked open. Prouvaire stepped through the cell door and went over to the bed. "Grantaire?" he called to him in hopes that he knew who he was. "'Taire, it's me." he said and Grantaire didn't so much as open his eyes. "Georges!" Prouvaire shouted, calling him by the first name everyone forgot that he even had. "Wake up, time to go home." he said, moving closer until finally he could lay a hand on his shoulder to wake him. He jumped back when Grantaire suddenly snapped awake and began swearing at him, thrashing his arms out. "You don't want to do that." Prouvaire said. "'Taire! It's me!" he said it again, trying to get closer. "We're going to get your clothes changed and get you out of here." he said then asked the guard "Can we at least get a basin of water?" he asked and the guard went to draw some water for him. "Gavroche is going to bring you clothes and we'll get you home." he said gently as he started peeling Grantaire's dirty clothes off of him. "You are RIPE." he joked but leaned forward as Grantaire started mumbling. "It hurts?" he asked to be sure he heard right.

"It hurts." Grantaire nodded, now speaking as though he was speaking in his sleep.

"What hurts?" Prouvaire asked as he worked.

"Everything..." Grantaire said, suddenly arching his back and clenching his teeth, grabbing the sheets in his hands and groaning like someone stabbed him in the back. "Oh my God it hurts!"

"Where'd you get your drinks last night?" Prouvaire asked him, starting to wash him when the officer brought the basin. "Un-clench your hands..." he unwound the sheet from between Grantaire's fingers. "You should stick to the wine at the cafe." he said as he worked. "You don't know what's in any other stuff, you got into something terrible last night, it poisoned you." he said, looking past him and seeing Courfeyrac standing there with a satchel of clothes. He stood aside as the jailer opened the door for him to go in. "Here's your clothes, we'll get you dressed and get you back home." he said. "Going to need help, he says he's in a lot of pain." he told Courfeyrac.

"From what?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Don't know." he finished buttoning up Grantaire's shirt and pulled his trousers on him, all the time bearing with Grantaire's protests and writhing in pain. "He drank something brutal, it's making him crazy..." he said as Grantaire's limbs jerked and he arched his back on the bed again. "It's giving him seizures..." he put his hands on either side of Grantaire's head to keep it from thrashing around. "They said if we can get him out the door and down the street, they won't press any kind of charges...we have to get him back to the cafe." he said and waited for the convulsion to subside. "Grantaire..." he patted his face. "We want to get you back to bed away from here...Courfeyrac is here too, we're going to help you home and maybe you'll remember what you drank." he said. "Get up on your feet or you won't be able to go home." he wrapped his arms around Grantaire's waist and got him to his feet while Courfeyrac got the other side. At first Grantaire's legs buckled, complaining that his feet were sore but Prouvaire had just had all of his clothes off of him, he knew there were no bruises or cuts on him. "It's just in your head." he said. "Let's walk now." They made an honest effort and soon they were walking him to the cafe. Getting him up the stairs was a bit harder but the others knew he was coming so they were there to help.

"What the..." Enjolras said when they came up. He knew they had gone to fetch Grantaire from the police but he wasn't expecting something so profoundly unlike the Georges Grantaire everyone knew. Enough was enough...if he wanted to fry his head, Enjolras was fed up with trying to salvage any part of Grantaire. He was goofy as a pet, especially when drunk but when it starts leading to violence and arrests...what good would he ever be?

"Just...get the kids away." Courfeyrac mumbled but they had been one step ahead of that and Combeferre had them in the clinic room early with the door shut.

"Enjolras." Grantaire said, dropping to his knees in front of the leader. "I'm sorry..." he said, almost crying. "I know you..." he said until his speech was almost arrested by another rack of seizures and screaming that it hurt.

"What hurts?" Enjolras asked the same question that Prouvaire had asked and got the same answer of 'everything'. "Go to bed, maybe you'll remember what you had to drink and stay away from it." he said. He poured Grantaire a glass of wine and held it for him to drink. "You ARE sick..." he said when Grantaire turned his head to the side and didn't want the wine. "...see you in the morning." he said and the two walked Grantaire to his bed.

They always hesitated to enlist Joly's help because he was so alarmist but Grantaire was still complaining of pain and they didn't want to alarm the children. Joly stripped his clothes off of him...it had hardly been worth the while dressing him at the precinct but he had to get home somehow. As soon as they had all his clothes off and were lying him back, Grantaire sprang into another fit of hysterics, again about his feet. "Let me see your feet..." he said "...is Combeferre here?" he asked Courfeyrac, who shrugged but went out to see if he could find the other med. student. "Lie back, I want to look at your feet..." he said, seeing nothing but healthy feet. "What's wrong with your feet?"

"They're burned." Grantaire said and a few tears fell down his face. "They hurt..." he sat on the bed and cried. "Papa..." he whined. "...why are you doing that?"

Joly looked at Combeferre when he came through the door. "He's delirious, got into something horrible."

"What did he do?" Combeferre asked not Joly, but Grantaire. "What'd your papa do?" he held his hand up for Joly to be quiet and went over, sitting on the bed beside Grantaire. "He can't hurt you, he's not here...I don't know where he is, what'd he do to you 'Taire?" he asked him, rubbing his back to get the sobbing to stop.

"He took the poker from the fire..." Grantaire cried. "...he put it on the floor, I had to stand on it. Ohhh Jesus..." he tried to pull his feet back up off of the floor.

"Put them on the bed." Combeferre said, moving a bit so Grantaire could tuck his feet up with the rest of him to avoid the red hot poker that was haunting him from his past. "How old were you?" he asked and Grantaire's head dropped down, his chin resting on his chest as he started sobbing, still pleading. "Your feet are fine now...it was a long time ago. Why did he do that?" he asked, wrapping his arm around him and rubbing his hair and Grantaire shrugged. "How old were you?" he repeated. "A teen? Younger?" he tried to guess. "A child?" he asked and Grantaire sobbed. Combeferre wrapped his arms around him and hauled him to his chest. "What made you think of this now?" he asked him, wrapping the blanket around him to keep him warm as the shivering had turned violent. "We're going to stay with you..." he comforted him. "It was a long time ago and when you start having these dreams we're going to wake you up to remind you." he rubbed his arms. Just when it seemed Grantaire was settling down, he shot up again.

"Ohgod...nooo...leave her alone." he hollered at nobody in particular.

"What's he doing now?" Joly asked, keeping Grantaire's arms from flailing and hurting one of them. "What's going on?"

"Victoire..." Grantaire cried.

"His sister..." Enjolras said from the doorway. He could tell this wasn't the usual drunken Grantaire episode, this one frightened all of them. "What's he doing to Victoire?" he asked.

"He's...squeezing her hands...he's breaking her little fingers..." Grantaire cried.

"How old is Victoire?" Combeferre asked. "How old are you?" he asked Grantaire again.

"I'm seven." he cried and Enjolras counted backwards on his fingers.

"Victoire was four?" he asked. "Four years old, your father broke her hands? Why?"

"Enjolras..." Combeferre said. "...anyone who is going to make his seven year old stand on a red hot iron and break his daughter's fingers doesn't need a reason." he reminded the leader - who always needed to justify everything that happened.

"She couldn't speak." Grantaire said awhile later in a lucid moment. He couldn't always respond to questions in time so he just answered them when he remembered they had been asked. "He didn't want her just pointing for things so when she did, he would hurt her hands. He got so angry one night he got totally out of control..." Suddenly he jumped again and started crying.

"Now what's he doing?" Enjolras asked.

"Nothing...he said he's sorry, he gave us wine." Grantaire said, calming down but he was exhausted. "He said he's sorry." he said quietly and they lay him down on the bed.

"You want to go to sleep for awhile?" Joly asked and Grantaire nodded. "Okay, we won't be far, call if you need."

It seemed strange in the cafe without Grantaire in the corner and mostly that Peep couldn't go in and see him. "He's...sick..." Courfeyrac told her. "Sick...ummm..." he pretended to throw up.

"Ahhhh." Peep made a sad sound.

"Needs sleep." Courfeyrac folded his hands and rested them on the side of his head, closing his eyes. Suddenly all of their eyes met. "Did you know his sister couldn't speak?" he asked Enjolras who nodded absently.

So much of Grantaire made sense now. He drank...no doubt because his father did and his father probably kept them drunk to forget his discipline.

"Wonder what set this off." Enjolras said. "Drinking isn't exactly new to him."

"I still want to find out what he drank." Combeferre said and he heard Grantaire start to jabber and stir again from down the hall. "Obviously something someone brewed in their house."

"It's okay." he said, going into the room. "Georges. Remember? You're at the cafe, you're not seven years old anymore and there's some children there who are worried about you." he settled him but he was still in a lot of pain. Headache and stomach ache now. "I need you to tell me what you drank."

"Nothing." Grantaire shook his head and Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"It didn't agree with you, did you buy it in the street or something? Thenardier's or something?"

"No." Grantaire shook his head again. "Oh no..." he said and sat up. Instinctively, Combeferre handed him a basin.

"Yeah, get rid of it." Enjolras held him while he threw up. "It's bad." he looked up at Combeferre. "I mean, he would have gotten rid of most of it last night, wouldn't he?"

"Should have..." Combeferre said and noticed that for all the work Grantaire was doing, there wasn't much in the basin. "...Enjolras, he said he drank nothing." he looked at Grantaire. "Nothing? Are you...trying to quit...I mean QUITTING drinking, 'Taire?" he asked. Grantaire nodded as he wretched and sputtered over the basin.

Enjolras looked at Combeferre then started to smile. The most recent spasm had stopped and Grantaire rested his head against Enjolras' chest. Enjolras dropped his head down and kissed Grantaire's forehead. "I'm sorry..." he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't understand. Are you quitting?" he asked him.

"Trying." Grantaire said weakly and reached for the basin again. "I don't want to go to sleep." he cried after he was finished trying to throw up. "Oh my God it hurts...so much."

"You have to sleep." Courfeyrac said. "The pain is not real." he reminded him.

Combeferre shook his head at Courfeyrac. Later he would explain that the pain was real, it just wasn't what he was hallucinating about. It wasn't burned feet or watching his sister have her hands broken, it was the pain that racked through the body of someone trying to overcome a severe addiction. He wrapped another blanket around Grantaire who was shivering and sweating at the same time. "Sleep." he told him. "We're all here." he left one candle burning and Enjolras sitting there to look after Grantaire. He would relieve him in a few hours.

When they went into the sitting room, the children were sitting at the table for a snack. For awhile it would be easy to just say he was sick. They were trying to keep his shouting to a minimum to not alarm them. Combeferre held his arms out to Peep and sat down in a chair with her while she made the vomiting sign again. Combeferre nodded. "Oui, still sick." and she pointed to Combeferre's chest. "Yes, I'm trying to do something." he smiled. When bedtime came, he sneaked into the bedroom and got Peep's night clothes. "Maybe you stay with Minette tonight." he pointed under the table and Peep pointed to the bedroom. "No, not tonight." he shook his head. She was not going to back down. She understood that he was sick. She remembered when she was sick. He would hold her, give her baths, bring her soup when she was feeling better after sitting with her holding a basin all night. He was there for her when she WASN'T sick, too. When she couldn't sleep, when she hurt herself, even when Enjolras got angry and gave the boys shit for something, hollering at them to smarten up - loud and sharp enough that she felt the noise. The others looked after her+

, too but the others hadn't been sick enough to need this kind of care yet.

"I think we're just going to let her get overtired and fall asleep out here." Prouvaire said.

A few hours later, Combeferre heated water and filled a basin then went into Grantaire's room. He was sleeping against Enjolras who was holding his hands down. "Still hitting you?" Combeferre smiled and pulled the blankets back to give him a bath.

"Worse..." Enjolras said and pulled Grantaire's head to the side to show him the scratch marks. "...he's picking at his skin, says there's bugs."

Combeferre nodded. Withdrawal was one of the first things he had learned to deal with when he started helping those in the slums. He hadn't realised, though how very long Grantaire had been drinking for. Like many, he figured it was just from when he went to university and also, like everyone he wondered just how it was that he could GET through his classes and do as well as he did. He untangled the two and Enjolras got up, stretching his limbs and walking around the room a bit. "Go grab something to eat, the kids are upset and I think Nico is in bed already." Combeferre said as he gave Grantaire his bath.

In the midst of the bath, Grantaire's eyes opened weakly, not wildly as they had been. "You're doing it." Combeferre said, encouragingly.

"I can't..." Grantaire said. "...please, I can't, get me something to drink." he pleaded as Combeferre sponged him down. "You can't have wine." he shook his head. "We have tea, do you want tea?" he asked and held up the flask he had brought. Grantaire shook his head and turned to the side. For awhile he hung over the basin again, dry heaving and gagging while Combeferre continued his bath.

"Well, we're gonna' make you all pretty. Peep really wants to see you and I don't think she'll settle without it." he said.

"I don't want to see her." Grantaire said. "I don't want her to see me...ever." he said, his mouth so dry from dehydration that he consented to the tea. "She deserves better. She deserves to be in a house with parents, a mama who'll dress her pretty, a papa who will take her places..."

"These kids will never get that, Grantaire." Combeferre said, finishing the bath and wrapping the blanket back around him, holding him to warm him up and holding his hands down from scratching himself. "That's why we're doing what we do. She needs you, you're harmless...you're NOT like your father." he said, wondering if that's what his fear was. "You'd never hurt her like that." they now knew a lot of things about Grantaire they hadn't known before. "Here..." Combeferre was tired of holding Grantaire's hands away from his own skin. He took some of the rags and wrapped them around his hands so that he couldn't scratch. He'd still need to be watched because he could rub just as hard and burn his skin with the fabric but he couldn't scratch. "We can't give them all they deserve, not yet but we can give them more than they had out there." he explained. "In a few years, we'll all be in better positions, you'll have your own business..." he wondered how far-fetched that was but if this worked and Grantaire stopped drinking, it was very feasible. "...you'll be able to get her anything she wants. I want to get her in here to see you before you start hurting again." he said and Grantaire nodded.

"Hurry..." he said out the door. "...get Margurite in here." Jean Prouvaire picked her up and carried her up the hall for awhile until she realised where she was going, then she wriggled out of his arms and went in there in her own power. She was already in her nightie and while they didn't like the kids running around in bare feet on the splintery floor, nothing was going to stop her. The motion on the bed was probably the last thing that Grantaire needed but he kept it together long enough for her to hug him and he to cuddle her. She looked at his bandaged hands and then his scratched up neck and kissed them both then she lay against him. "Let her fall asleep there if it's possible." Combeferre said but stuck close in case Grantaire began to hallucinate again.

Margurite stroked under his chin as she sat on his lap, making a sound she had never made before. It came out like a combination of a whistle and whisper. "Tsaih". She said over and over again, trying to hush him.

"New sound." Grantaire smiled. Eventually they learned what certain sounds meant. "Maybe some day we'll learn what that one is."

"'Taire." Enjolras said as he stood by the door "She's saying 'Taire..." he went over to her and smiled. "Taire?" he said to her and she pointed. "She's saying your name." he clapped so she could see it and nodded.

A few tears were in the eyes of everyone in the room and Grantaire hugged her, promising this would work.

The following few days were just as rough with Grantaire suffering hallucinations and pain - imaginary and real. It flopped between them not wanting to leave him alone to him not wanting to be left alone. Memories of his father plagued his crippled mind, sometimes he asked for his sister, they hadn't seen each other since they were children and he had no idea where his father had taken her or where his mother went a few years later. He could only hope they were together and that was how he comforted himself when he was younger.

Almost a week after his "arrest", he got out of bed. His legs felt wooden and wobbly. His friends had helped keep him washed and shaven but they should have walked him around a bit. But for a few trips out back, he had been in bed the whole time. His muscles ached from lack of use combined with the sudden tensing from the seizures and panic attacks. His head still banged from the withdrawal and there was definite peach fuzz on his tongue. Sitting on the side of his bed, he thought about all of the things he had come to terms with in the past week and he made a hard fast decision.

He needed a drink. One of the rare times...there was nobody upstairs in the cafe. The guys were at school and whosever turn it was to stay with the kids obviously decided it was too nice of a day to stay indoors. He had the place to himself and he looked in the cupboards for anything. It was a small flask but it was full. Dare he? He had worked so hard. Bullshit, the others worked hard, he had just laid there and cried like a baby. Quitting seemed like a good idea at the time but it wasn't as though anyone would take Margurite away from him if he was a drunk. He was a drunk, like his father only he wasn't. His father talked severe, Grantaire just talked nonsense. His father disdained his children, Grantaire, like the other students adored theirs.

The sweetness of the fermented fruit was like having a conversation with an old friend. One of those good friends that, even if you haven't seen each other in a long time and have been through hell, you just picked up the conversation where you left off the last time you saw each other. He was hardly a connoisseur...he didn't sniff the cork or hold it in his mouth and swill it around, he just drank it. He wouldn't know a good one from a bad one all he knew was that he had missed his old friend. The pain in his head was going away and the wine was numbing the pain in his heart, too. He didn't want a new normal, he wanted thing to go back to how they were at the cafe. Maybe next time. Maybe the day would come that he would give it up. For now, he was very capable of going to school, studying and helping with the kids while all the time pissed as a newt. Perhaps when he did get his own business going he would be a bit more serious about it. He heard the footsteps coming up the stairs and looked through the alcoholic haze to see who it was.

"Oh no." Enjolras sighed when he looked sadly upon the familiar sight. He clenched his teeth and felt the anger rise, lecturing himself about not exploding. He wasn't as willing to let things go as the others, it took him a bit more effort but for the sake of keeping peace in the house, he swallowed it. First off, it wasn't his place to throw Grantaire out. Second, it wasn't that things 'changed', they merely went back to the way they were.


	6. Memories

**A/N For better or worse, the children are making the guys remember aspects of their own childhoods. Warning: references to past sessions of child abuse (none sexual). This contains flashback with I HOPE stay in italics in this program. Just in case, I put *** and *** to separate the real from the memories. Lastly, the description of Grantaire's sister is meant with love. She is based upon my own darling niece. **

It is said that every parent recognises his/her own child's cry and it came to pass that the students were getting pretty good at picking his own out. It could be because every one of the children still had creepy dreams and sometimes woke crying. Often times it was after they had gone to bed but the men were still awake, studying in the common room. Minette would be asleep under the table, she had no problem going to sleep with the candles still burning and the murmur of the men talking, scraping of chairs, smell of coffee and footsteps as they walked around. Sometimes she would fall asleep in Jean Prouvaire's arms but usually she would sit for his story then crawl under the table. They wondered how long this would suit her until she demanded a bedroom. The most likely solution would be to move her in with her brother and Enjolras but for now the arrangement suited everyone.

Jean Prouvaire had barely gotten up the stairs after school and bid hello to Enjolras, who had been the one to stay home that day when they both heard the crying coming from downstairs. "That's Minette." Jean said and headed to the top of the stairs to see the comical sight of Nico carrying his sister who was only a year younger up the stairs.

"Nico, you're going to drop her." Enjolras reached down and took her, passing her over to Prouvaire. "Oh oh...what happened?" he asked as the blood trickled down from behind her ear onto her collar.

"Nettie..." Prouvaire said, taking his handkerchief and pressing it to her head. There was no other dirt or scapes on her so it wasn't likely that she fell down or fell off of something. He sat her on a counter and dipped some water from the pail into a small basin, soaked a rag and looked at the lump. "Not serious." he shook his head to Enjolras and held the rag to her head. "Just messed up your pretty fairy hair."

"Some kids threw a rock at her." Nico said. The Petit Amis had the grand misfortune of not only being targets for the rich kids but also for their former peers who were still on the street.

Prouvaire gritted his teeth as he cleaned Minette up. Karma is not always immediate, nor is it direct. He had thrown rocks and rotten food at the poor kids when he was a kid and now a little girl who couldn't be more of his own than if he had something to do with her creation had reaped the harvest that he had sown. "There, all better." he smiled at her and pushed her hair back into place then got to work on her collar with water and salt, hoping it would scrub out later. He lifted her down from the counter. "Maybe play in here for now." he said and she ran off to find the other girls.

_"Mama..." Petit Jehan said as he watched his nanny put on her cloak and leave for the night. "...why doesn't nanny Marie stay here with us?"_

_"She has to get home, she has her own little boy." Mme Prouvaire said, playing with his hair. _

_"Why doesn't her little boy come here?" he asked. "He could play with me, play with my toys and sleep in my room." At such an early age, young Jean Prouvaire knew the joy that a sibling would bring. "Does she live close?"_

_"No, she's across town, in the poor area." his mother said._

_"Where's that?" he asked. "How does she get there?"_

_"I don't know." Mme Prouvaire said. "Get dressed for supper, will you? Papa will be home shortly."_

_"Is Nanny Marie poor, Mama?" Jean asked over a supper of lamb and roast potatoes._

_"No, my son..." Mme Prouvaire started._

_"Oui." Prouvaire Sr. said. "The poor work for us and we help them so that they won't have to beg."_

_"What about their children?" Jean asked. He had no idea the children that he and his friends threw rocks at were just like his nanny's son. He was just doing as his friends did and they were only showing off. It would be a few years later that he would find out that those children were just like him, just different circumstances. He carried with him a constant urge to make amends with everyone. _

Enjolras had to resist the urge to go down and deal with the kids but he knew that they would be long gone anyway. Enjolras had never thrown rocks at the poor kids. There were no poor kids in Enjolras' protected little childhood world. The first he saw of the poor at all was when he started university and looked around on his way to and from his own flat. Having his pocket picked a few times by the urchins opened his eyes to the number of them were around and he learned quickly to make friends with them and carry precious little that they could lift. It started with him being cautious with them, like one might be with a stray animal...this was all so new to him. Eventually, he was able to kid with them, kick their football back to them, exchange a few words, even learn names but mostly he just walked wide eyed, appalled at their living conditions and the stench of their neighbourhood.

"We weren't always like this." Nico said as he watched his sister play and it snapped Enjolras out of his reverie. "We had a mama and papa." he said sadly. "They just didn't tell us what we were supposed to do if anything happened to them."

"You looked after your sister until you got here, that's what they would have wanted most." Enjolras said and boiled him some water, mixing it with some wine and pointing to the table for him to sit at while he sliced some bread and cheese for them both to snack on. "What happened to your mama and papa?" he asked. Nico was a serious little boy and rarely talked from his heart.

"We were on a boat coming from Africa." Nico started as he bit into some bread and sipped the watered down wine.

"You were from there?" Enjolras asked and Nico nodded. "Born there?" he asked and Nico nodded again. "Our parents were missionaries." he said and that made sense. They were the ones who forever said blessing before they ate, which got everyone in the habit of it.

"We had so much." Nico said, putting the bread down and leaning his forehead against his hand. "Everything, school uniforms, nice shoes, my mama, she was so beautiful. Minette looks like her, a little bit anyway." he said. "Even when the pirates took the ship..."

"Pirates!" Enjolras said. "Your ship got pirated?"

"Yes, but we got here all the same. Then mama got sick and we stayed in the house while Papa went to get medicine but he was sick when he got back too." Nico said, tears now running down his wrist as he told his story.

Everything, proper schooling, school uniforms, enough food, two loving parents, it was everything Enjolras had while he grew up. What would have happened if something had happened to his parents when he was so young? He had enough family that he wouldn't have ended up on the street but to have everything familiar just whisked away from you like that.

_"Sylvain!" the nanny said and went over to get the little blonde boy out of the deep clawfoot bath tub. "Let me see behind your ears." she looked to make sure he scrubbed there. "What did you do with your cousins?" she asked, wrapping a towel around him so she could lift him from the tub without dropping the slippery little boy. She cuddled him as she carried him to the thick rug in front of the fire. "Stay there and I'll warm up your nightshirt." she pointed and went to fetch the long white cotton garment. She put her hands in the sleeves and held it up in front of the fire. _

_"Played pirates." little Sylvain Enjolras shivered until his nanny pulled the towel more tightly around him. _

_"For a pirate who spends his life in the water, you sure got dirty." Nanny laughed and held the warmed shirt open for him to climb into. His blue eyes twinkled as he told Nanny about the day's play, hanging onto her shoulders as he stepped into the leggings he wore to bed on cold nights. He sat on the rug in front of the fireplace, sipping hot milk as Nanny combed out his blonde ringlets. "Let's take you to Mama and Papa so you can say goodnight to them." Nanny said, picking him up and carrying him to the parlour._

_"Bonsoir, Mama, Bonsoir Papa." little Sylvain said and kissed both parents, leaving a frothy little milk print on his mother's cheek then turned to their houseguests. "Mon tante, mon oncle." he gave a nod to say goodnight to his aunt and uncle. His little cousins had gone to bed already with some of the other household staff. Nanny took his hand and he shuffled beside her back up to his bedroom where she picked him up and threw him on the bed. With a giggle he squirmed under the blankets and hid under the pillow._

_"Ahhh." Nanny sighed. "Petit garcon has a kiss for everyone but his poor nanny Caroline." _

_"Bonsoir Nanny!" Sylvain pushed the pillows aside and gave her a big hug and kiss then snuggled down and fell asleep as she stroked his damp little curls. _

"Mama died as we were waiting for papa to come back." Nico cried as he continued talking. Enjolras' attention switched to the matter at hand and that was Nico crying, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Minette was sleeping with her to keep her warm...she didn't know..." he sobbed. "...she didn't know she was dead, she just wanted to keep her warm until papa came back." he said. "She didn't know." he whispered, shoulder checking to be sure his sister wasn't listening in. "And we didn't tell her."

"Oh, Nico." Enjolras said, taking out his handkerchief to wipe the little boy's face. He had no siblings. He knew that it was a special love and bond between them but he didn't understand it. No matter how close he got to any of his friends or how long he knew them for, it would never be the same. He wanted to gather both of those kids up in his arms and hold them. No matter they woke crying and both were rather clingy. How could someone so young endure so much pain and not go crazy? The other students joked that Nico was just a miniature of Enjolras, almost down to his appearance with curly blond hair and bright blue eyes but Enjolras surrendered when it came to pure guts. He was sure that if that had happened when he was Nico's age, he wouldn't have pulled through it so quickly. "Nico, I'm so sorry." he reached out and the little boy wrapped his arms around his neck and cried about as hard as he had ever done in the whole time he had lived there.

"I'm trying to take care of her." he cried, and Enjolras understood that Nico was almost upset with himself for allowing his sister to be hurt.

"She's okay, Nico." he rubbed the back of his head and hugged him. "She didn't even need a doctor, just a cut and Prouvaire took care of it - she's off playing now. You take such good care of her." he said.

"Jean Prouvaire takes good care of her." Nico corrected him.

"You feel like he's moving in on you?" Enjolras asked. "Like he should leave some of that for you?" he smiled. Maybe there was a bit of jealousy but Nico shook his head.

"She doesn't need a brother right now." Nico said. "She needs a papa and you guys are kind of like that."

"Well, she needs both." Enjolras said, pulling Nico on his lap for a bit of lovin'. These kids were different from the others because they knew what it was like to have it all pulled out from under them. The others spent all their time on the streets...well, maybe. Nobody knew Margurite's past but she was probably just like Grantaire's sister - just cast out because she would never become independent. Thank God she had been swept up with the others and ran to the cafe but the point was that the other children got used to the absence of affection so that they could appreciate just the smallest bit of comfort.

They heard Courfeyrac and Gavroche coming up the stairs, chatting and Nico ran up the hallway into the bedroom until his red puffy eyes returned to normal. He never wanted anyone to see him cry...another thing not unlike Enjolras. The two newcomers put sacks of groceries on the table and Courfeyrac hung his book bag from the back of a chair. "DON'T...touch anything." he told Gavroche who was just ready to reach to take some bread out of the cloth basket they used for groceries. Courfeyrac looked at Gavroche's hands. "I don't know where you've been today but your hands have also been with you." he pushed him towards the small room where they kept a wash basin. "Combeferre's making stew downstairs." he told Enjolras. It would have been so nice to have a stove upstairs but that would be hard to haul. They did have a fireplace but that was more or less where they boiled water, it wasn't big enough for a stew pot.

"You don't have to cut the carrots so small, Fleur." the doctor told his little assistant. It didn't matter what he was doing, she was willing to get in there and help. "There are plenty and we have to get the potatoes done, too." he said as he prepared the beef in the pot.

"Did you have a sister to help your mama cook?" Fleur asked.

"I did...I do." he corrected himself, making a mental note to visit his sister.

"Is she grown up now too?" she asked.

"She's getting there." he nodded.

_"Yvan..." the lady said as he sat in his room wondering why his mother was shouting and crying in the other room. At least she had stopped that. "...you have a baby sister, Danielle. Do you want to go see her?" she asked and five year old Yvan, who nodded excitedly got up and went to his mother's bedroom. _

_"Come up here, Yvan." his mother said. She looked tired but perfectly happy considering all the noise she had been making. He even knew there was a baby coming, he just didn't really understand how one stage led to the other. "Isn't she cute?" she pushed the blanket away from baby girl's face._

_"Is she real?" Yvan asked. He had seen dolls in stores, even in the nursery that was waiting for the baby. Danielle didn't look any different from the dolls. _

_"Yes, she's real." Mme Combeferre laughed. "You can touch her." she took his 5 year old hand and the newborn's hand and put them together. "See how tiny she is right now? She's going to need her big brother for a long time." _

_Yvan looked at his mother. How did she know to do all that? Every touch she gave him and the baby felt so good. It wasn't just that day but, for instance the way she brushed her hair or pinned it up. The way she got his whispy hair to stay just so - even though sometimes it involved spit. How did she know when to tell him to 'shhh' or when it was okay for him to talk. When they were out and she got him a treat and said "here, you'll like this"...how did she know he would? _

_"Do you want to hold her?" Mme Combeferre asked. "Just sit up here against the pillow." she waited until he adjusted himself at the head of the bed. "Hold our your arms and put them on your lap." she said and lowered the baby into his arms. "Say hello grand frere." she spoke for the baby. "Hello Yvan."_

_It was some of his favourite years, helping with the baby and staying close to his mother. Age ten, everything changed. Boarding school sounded exciting. A bit scary because he knew he'd be away from home for long spells but, as with everything, his mother made it sound like an adventure._

_The other boys there were horrid. Spoiled, bratty little rich boys...he didn't realise he was one, too and this was where they parted. His nannies were all treated like members of the family, not like secondary citizens like his schoolmates treated the school staff and talked about their servants. They urinated on the coal fires, saved spare food to stuff in each others' lockers until it stunk. Yvan was, by no means an innocent in this but he had a conscience. Quick to play a prank but also quick to help clean up the aftermath. This earned him the reputation of being a pretty boy._

_As he grew and topics turned political, the schoolmates were all decidedly against the revolution. They liked the way things were, it was safe and they couldn't share Yvan's vision for a united, free France. Enjolras was just as passionate but the other way and while Combeferre wasn't altogether keen on that one either, at least it was the right side of the fence. When he hit med school, everything fell into place, he belonged there. Especially now that he found the value in treating the poor and mentoring the children. Who would have thought his path would lead to standing next to an angelic girl as she cut vegetables and he stewed beef. _

"Frere Yvan?" Fleur asked. "You are dreaming?"

"Yeah." he smiled. "You just made me think of my sister and I have to see her."

"Can I meet her?" Fleur asked, dumping the vegetables into the water.

"That...I'm not sure of RIGHT NOW." he emphasised. It wouldn't be a bad idea. If it heated up on the streets, he would want somewhere to send Fleur and that may be the answer.

"Why do the boys fart all the time?" Fleur asked later on when they were all upstairs eating their stew.

"We have to, Cheri." Grantaire sighed. "Boys explode if they don't...but NOT AT THE TABLE." he got firm with Gavroche, Nico and the Renes.

"How come girls don't?" Fleur asked.

"You talk and giggle too much, that lets your air out." Enjolras said. If the truth be told, the girls' behavior could drive him crazy if he was trying to study. He wasn't familiar with little girls and the only women he knew were either his high society friends, some students at the university or the whores around the streets. There was Eponine, too but she wasn't giggly.

"Knock...it...off." Courfeyrac told Gavroche as they switched to belching. He went back to the counter and got the pot of stew again. "Eat more before it gets too cold." he fed each of the kids another spoonful on their plate.

_"Will you sit down?" M. de Courfeyrac told his son for the tenth time as he got up from the table to get his own food. "We got that girl, she'll do it." _

_"Papa..." Thirteen year old Francois said. "...she's younger than me, and so skinny" he said of the Egyptian teenage girl who came to work in their household. He didn't even know her name, apparently he would have no need to learn it. _

_"You're not going to be anyone's servant. No child of mine will." M. de Courfeyrac lectured._

_"I guess that just means me." Francois said and sat down, smiling a thank you to the girl. "Does she at least get to eat?" he asked. The girl didn't speak French yet so she couldn't understand the table talk._

_"After us, yes." the father said, making it clear that his son was to eat everything on his plate.. There would be food in the pot for the girl but she would have to get used to __just eating __what was left. _

_"That's plenty, thank you." he said to her as she tried to fill his plate and his father sent her back to the kitchen where her food awaited until such a time that he would summon her again. _

_"Merci, Ma__de__moiselle." Francois stuck his head into the kitchen afterwards. He waited until his father had retired to the nightly game of Parcheesi with the neighbour...another poser who made sure his children remembered the difference between the rich and poor. Oh, they would remember alright. "My name is Francois." he said, looking at the counter of pots and pans, dishes and mess on the floor. "You have to do this on your own?" he asked. She had no idea what he was saying but his tone of voice and sparkly brown eyes spoke volumes about the difference between him and the senior de Courfeyrac. "Sit." he pointed to the table. She drooped her head forward and did as she was told. He took a plate and filled it with the last of the food from the pots and poured her a glass of the orange juice she had spent her day squeezing. "Bon appetite." he welcomed her and took the pail out back to pump the water. "Your name?" he asked and she wasn't catching on. She was still in shock of his treatment. He pointed to himself and repeated his name. "Here..." he went and got one of his school books. "Francois de Courfeyrac, c'est moi." he said then covered up the 'de' prefix on the book plate. "Vous?" he pointed to her. She took the pen and wrote in Arabic._

_"Ayisha." she pointed. _

_"You can write.." he said. "Say it again...Ayisha." he repeated and ad-libbed a spelling then handed the pencil back to her for her to copy. "Here..." he flipped the book open to where there was print. "Don't worry about what it says..." he got her to copy some words while he got the dishes ready. He would have to leave the kitchen soon, lest someone catch him but he planted a seed. By the time he left for university, the maid, though not any more advantaged according to his father, had a staff off three others below her, spoke and wrote French and looked people in the eye._

_"Merci, Monsieur __Francois __de Courfeyrac." she wrote on a piece of paper and folded it up, tucking it into the pocket of one of his shirts she packed for his __move to the university flats__. He didn't find it until he unpacked in __his flat.__ With a pencil he scribbled out part of it, leaving just the surname._

"Courfeyrac..." Gavroche was waving over his plate. "...I said I'm full." Luckily, there hadn't been a lot left or his plate would have been heaped with food.

"Of course, Souris." he said and emptied the last of it on Enjolras' plate. "Then come help with the dishes."

As he took the pot to the counter and added the hot water Joly had brought from downstairs to the basin of cold water already there, Gavroche went over to grab the rag and hugged around Courfeyrac's waist. "I like saying that...I'm full."

"I like hearing it, Souris." he kissed the top of his head and dragged a chair over for Gavroche to stand on so he could reach the counter.

The silence in the common area after the children went to bed was always so restful that the students didn't always want to go to bed. They just wanted to sit and experience the peaceful silence that USED to be up there in the evenings. Grantaire finally became too drunk to focus on his books and staggered to bed. Jean Prouvaire was under the table telling Minette her story. Courfeyrac's mind kept cutting to wondering how Ayisha was doing. He rarely went home but knew she was still working there. He had seen a beautiful soft blue nightgown in a store window and thought about buying it for her. He could only give gifts that his father wouldn't see. Good thing that she spoke French now so he could explain why his gifts to her were things like stockings, nightgowns, soaps and perfumes. He smiled when he went into the bedroom and saw Gavroche flaked out in his bed. Courfeyrac had ordered him to bed earlier when he tipped over some wine onto a borrowed book and Gavroche had set the book by the window sill to try to dry it.

"I'm sorry." he said as Courfeyrac pushed him over to make room.

"It's just a book, Gav." Courfeyrac said. "I'm sure the professor will understand. Sorry for flipping out."

"You're acting wierd." Gavroche said. "It's a girl, right?"

"Not really." Courfeyrac said. "Not like that anyway." he settled on his back with his hands behind his head. "Just thinking about some of the staff we had in the house I grew up in and that I should go see them for an afternoon soon."

"They must be old." Gavroche said.

"Good NIGHT!" Courfeyrac laughed.

Enjolras folded his work up and put it in his bag, deserting the common room so Prouvaire could spread his mattress on the table top. "God." he said halfway up the hallway. Outside of Grantaire's room he could hear the snoring and he went in. He grabbed Grantaire by the opposite side arm and flipped him onto his side. "You have NO idea how lucky you are." he kissed Peep's head as she slept in her silent world. As with Courfeyrac, when he got to his room, he found a little boy in his bed and pushed him over to make room. He stroked Nico's golden curls the way Nanny Caroline had done as he fell asleep. A few hours later, he woke momentarily when he heard crying. Just long enough to know it wasn't Nico.

Peep had no idea how much noise she made when she woke up crying and she really had no idea what kind of pain her bawling served to Grantaire's ears but two things were for certain, it fully woke/sobered him up and he didn't let her cry long before going over to her. "Wake up." he said gently as it was often the case that she was still asleep. He sat her up, sitting beside her, pulling her to him. "Hold close, it's okay."

"Mama?" she cried.

"Non, Cheri...I'm sorry." he said even though she wouldn't hear him and kissed the top of her head..

"Tsaih?" she asked, pressing her ear to his chest, smelling the sweet wine coming off of him and feeling his voice.

"Yeah, just me." he said and rested his cheek on top of her head, rocking her a little bit, which did HIS stomach no good but it settled her.

_"Georges?" he heard his mother's voice. "Get up mon garcon, show me you can walk."_

_"I can't...it hurts." he cried. Everything hurt. He had been forced to stand on the hot poker then strapped with his father's leather belt. For what? He didn't know. Apparently the law business was stressful. His father, well-dressed and professional when he left the house every morning changed drastically through out the day and came home a fierce animal. _

_Five year old Georges loved school, it kept him out of the house so he didn't have to watch his mother cry and try, in vain to get his sister Victoire to speak. "Mama, she can't hear you." he told her. "How can you ask her to make sounds she can't hear?"_

_"__There is always hope.__" Margurite Grantaire said. She found such beauty in the little girl's almond shaped eyes, even though she had a hard time keeping her tongue in her mouth and slobbered a fair bit. She probably wouldn't have been able to speak if she could hear. The doctors said they had seen it before and not to expect much out of her daughter. She should be institutionalised early in her life but Margurite would fight it was long as she could. "Here..." Georges' mother poured him some absinthe. "It will stop hurting soon." _

_Georges tasted the licorice and knew this was stronger than the grape flavoured stuff, the pain would go away quickly and his head would spin and all would be fine. "Why do you think he hit me this time, Mama?" he slurred. "I wasn't noisy, I wasn't mean..." he said but remembered he and his friends had thrown some rocks at the poor kids. But that wasn't mean, even his parents threw rocks at the poor kids. _

_"It's because when your sister asks for something and points, you go get it for her. He doesn't want us to do that. He wants her to ask..."_

_"She can't." Georges said again. "He points for things all the time in the evenings when he's too tired to speak." he said, not knowing the difference at this age between being drunk and being tired. He didn't know what drunk was. _

_"Just...don't make him angry, Georges." his mother said. She was right in telling him that. She enjoyed the luxuries that came with being married to Judge Henri Grantaire. She wanted for nothing. In public, she, her son and husband made a perfect family and nobody knew about the daughter.__ Georges had the finest clothes, best toys, music lessons, best school, he had it all and nobody knew he was more or less a lush in training. He was pretty much addicted to wine by the time he was ten years old. He couldn't have made it through a day of school without a glass of it when he got up. By then, his entire life was a lie. The accepted story was that his mother had gone to stay with her ailing mother and nobody knew when she would be back. Georges had been taught to just thank people for asking and say that she was fine and he'd heard from her just the other day but that's not how it was at home._

_By then it was just himself and his father. The staff had been disgusted by Judge Henri Grantaire and other than a cleaning lady a few days a week, the house was empty. Georges had stopped talking to his father after he watched him break Victoire's fingers when she tried to point at something. In spite of his begging and crying, Henri wouldn't tell him where Victoire went. He vowed, when he got old enough, he would start checking out the institutions in the area but knew his father was smart and rich and he could send her anywhere. What was really odd was that a few years after Victoire went away, Margurite left, too. She didn't write or try to contact him. That wasn't like her. He couldn't wait to move out of that house and go to university. By then he was an alcoholic, usually choosing wine but when the pain got too severe, he switched to absinthe. If he hadn't met the friends he did in university, he probably wouldn't have followed through with it into the years he did. He COULD function, learn, write and pay attention in class but afterwards he was a wreck. And he never did start looking for Victoire, or his mother._

"I'm sorry..." he said to Peep and he held her. "I would get your mother here if I could." he said, trying not to cry. She reached her hand up and put it softly on his throat while he talked so he just rambled for awhile, saying nothing but knowing that the vibration from his vocal cords comforted her. Finally she grew heavy against his chest and he knew she was falling asleep. Before she did, he pulled her back and looked into her face as he smoothed her hair back. He knew she couldn't hear him but she knew he was talking to her. "I don't know who you are, where you came from or even what your name is..." he said and kissed her forehead "...but I promise you I will never...EVER leave you." he said and she nodded. "Show me okay." he said and put his finger on his nose and she touched her own nose. Somewhere along the way, that had become her sign for 'okay'.

It was always interesting when they got up in the morning, everyone trying to get ready at the same time. Courfeyrac and Enjolras usually didn't even shave at the house. There were plenty of barbers between the cafe and the campus.

"How come you're looking all pretty today?" Courfeyrac asked, surprised to see Enjolras standing at one of the basins, shaving.

"Thought I'd go have supper at my parents' place tonight." he said. "It's bad enough they know I'm living in amongst...those people." he imitated his father's voice and attitude. "I don't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me looking like...those people." he grinned.

The pitter patter of little feet came up the hallway from all of the rooms. "Feet!" Courfeyrac hollered. They were all supposed to have their shoes on."I swear you all want splinters so that you get attention." he said as they ignored him and sat at the table for a cup of tea to start their day. It was Joly's turn to stay home with them. A competent minder but by the end of the day he had them all convinced that they were sick. "You okay, 'Taire?"

Grantaire sat at the table, working on convincing himself the teacup held wine. His eyes drifted nowhere, he just raised his hand and touched his nose.


	7. Fishing - Courfeyrac

Fishing - Courfeyrac

**It doesn't take a psychic to know that soon it won't be safe in the area for anyone without a gun or something to hide beind.**

"Nico!" Enjolras called from the bedroom and the little boy left the breakfast table to go back into the bedroom. "After your school is over..." he said, referring to the homeschooling the kids got every day. "...I want you to get dressed in these clothes." he held up some newer clean and pressed trousers and a shirt. "I want your face washed and hair combed and Joly is going to bring you to me at the university." he told him.

"Really?" Nico asked. "I get to see your school?"

"Not really..." Enjolras said. He had promised him he would show him where he went to school but there wasn't the time today. "...you'll see the campus but I'll take you around to the buildings and libraries another day, I just want you to meet me there okay?" he asked. "Okay?" he asked and Nico nodded. "Okay, have a good day...gimmee a kiss." he said. "Get your shoes on!" he pointed. The kids were getting less and less splinters, it was almost as though all the little feet going up and down the hallway was smoothing the floor out but he knew it wasn't the case. True, splinters were getting less and less frequent but when there was one, it was big, dirty and bad and had to be watched like mad. "Let's go, 'Taire!" he called and Grantaire took one more swallow of wine before grabbing his own bag of books. God knew how he did it but he always managed to get to classes and learn something. He would be a genius if he didn't drink. Grantaire looked over his shoulder and looked at Margurite, touching his nose and she touched hers.

"Okay." he smiled and followed Enjolras down the hallway.

"Aren't you going to school today?" Gavroche asked Courfeyrac, who was dawdling a bit and didn't leave with the rest of the guys.

"I just have a few things to pick up today, can't get to classes." he said.

"I have things to do, too but I still have to go to school." Gavroche pouted.

"You like school." Courfeyrac said. "We don't exactly exclude you from playing outside." he added and started walking down the stairs. "Hang on..." he said. "...Gav..." he said, coming back up. It was early morning and Gavroche was clean and sparkling. "Put your clean trousers on." he told him and sat back on a chair while he waited. "You want to come with me?" he asked.

"Yes!" Gavroche said. The kids didn't often leave the house without one of the adults now because the street kids were mean to them.

Once beyond Sainte Michel's filthy streets, Courfeyrac waved down a public carriage. "Whoah!" Gavroche's jaw dropped when the carriage stopped and Courfeyrac lifted him up to go into the door and sit on the plush burgundy seats. He had seen the inside of them many times but never by invitation and he sat very politely, smiling and nodding at the other couple who were in there. "Bonjour." he said to the lady politely and grinned at Courfeyrac as if to ask if he was doing it right. He realised that Courfeyrac was dressed a bit richer than he usually did for school and the carriage took them far away. "Where is this?" he finally asked when the carriage stopped and the man opened the door for them to climb out.

"I grew up here." Courfeyrac said and lifted Gavroche back down to street level.

"No shit on the street..." Gavroche said when he looked. The paving stones were only sandy, not filthy and the streets had obviously been swept fairly regularly. "Do these turn on?" he asked, looking up at the gas lamps on the side of the streets. "Can we stay here until we get to see them?" he asked.

"I don't think we'll be here that long, Gav." Courfeyrac laughed. "Now...you're going to meet my parents and they go by de Courfeyrac."

"Do I call them 'your honour'?" Gavroche asked.

"No...not that much." Courfeyrac laughed. "He isn't a doctor but he has a doctorate, so you can called him Dr. de Courfeyrac." he said.

"What does he do?" Gavroche asked.

"That's not important." Courfeyrac said, not wanting to admit that he played Parcheesi and put on airs for a living. He owned businesses, could have been a lawyer but with his posing, he didn't have to be. "Mama can just be called Madame." he said and stopped before they got to the Estate de Courfeyrac. "Gav..." he smoothed his blonde hair back to tidy it up once more and brushed a bit of street dust off of his clothing. "It's very important that you make a good impression..."

"You're leaving me here, aren't you?" Gavroche asked.

"God I wish I could!" Courfeyrac laughed. "No, you're coming back with me." he said. He just wanted to get them familiar with him and see that a street urchin wasn't entirely filthy or beyond re-training...just in case.

"Mama!" he called when he went through the door holding Gavroche by the hand.

"Well!" Mme Courfeyrac said. "Bonjour and bienvenue Francois!" she clapped her hands once, pleased that he took time out to visit his parents.

"Bonjour mama." Courfeyrac said and kissed her cheeks. He looked beyond the door at his father's chair. He wasn't there, good, it would work better if he wasn't at the moment. "This is Gavroche." he held up the hand of the little boy. "He wanted to see where I grew up."

"Oh..." Mme Courfeyrac said. "Bienvenue, Gavroche." she smiled.

"Madame." Gavroche nodded.

"He was sick." Courfeyrac said. "I promised him when he got better he could see the house." he lied. "C'mon, I'll show you my room." he said. "Be right back, Mama." he said, leading Gavroche up the stairway.

"Are you going to eat or just leave again?" she asked.

"No, we can eat." he said and smiled when they got upstairs. Ayisha was making the bed and taking laundry down.

"Monsieur Francois." she smiled at him and bowed a bit.

"Ayisha." he said. "This is Gavroche."

"Madame." Gavroch said.

"Mademoiselle." Francois corrected but he could see Gavroche staring. He had never seen a woman that colour or so beautiful before. "We're just looking around up here."

"Will you be eating here today?" Ayisha asked.

"Oui." Francois asked, glad that Ayisha was no longer on kitchen duty and there were a few down there, nobody had to do it all. "I want to talk to you afterwards though." he said and they went into his bedroom.

"Wow!" Gavroche said, looking at, above everything the space. "Why don't you come here every night?" he asked, climbing on the bed and lying on the satin quilt.

"I like where I live now, Gav." Courfeyrac opened the window and looked down on the orchards.

"Is that all yours?" Gavroche looked out the window with him and pointed to the orchards.

"No, ours stops here." he pointed to the garden below. "Someone else owns the orchard and over there is a little farm." he said.

"Can I have a sleep in here?" Gavroche climbed back on the bed and under the quilt, lying his head on the pillow.

"Some other time, Gavroche." Courfeyrac smiled. "You just woke up, I know you don't need a sleep."

"Are these all yours?" he asked, getting out of bed and running to the book cupboard and then over to the wardrobe, pulling it open to see the toys that Courfeyrac had put away years ago. They were saved for when a child came to visit with his or her parents.

"Yes, Gavroche." Courfeyrac smiled, almost embarrassed with the amount of stuff he had growing up and had failed to see just how much was unnecessary. "It was all mine." he waved around then picked Gavroche up and sat him on top of the bookcase so he could look him square in the eyes. He stroked his hair back and kissed his forehead, holding his face in his hands. "And that's not fair." he admitted so that Gavroche knew that he recognised the fact.

"Just the way it is." Gavroche shrugged.

"It is...for now." Courfeyrac nodded. "You see what we're trying to do in Sainte Michel?" he asked. "You see we're trying to show the people who live here..." he pointed to the floor and out the window "...that they can live with a lot less if they supported a king or government who could...who WOULD work with the people to even up the score."

"That'd be nice, yeah." Gavroche smiled, his mucky little teeth not as bad as they were when he lived on the streets but they'd never be good.

"Monsieur Francois?" Ayisha's voice sounded in the doorway. "Lunch is ready, where will you take it? Outdoors? Up here?"

"No, we'll come to the table, Merci." he said. "Don't eat yourself sick, okay." he said to Gavroche and kissed his forehead. He lifted him down and they stopped at the basin to wash their hands.

"Bonjour, Papa." Courfeyrac said as they went into the dining room. While he could see Gavroche's wonder and amazement at the house, Courfeyrac constantly felt guilty. All was not as it seemed. The Courfeyracs were not 'rich', just 'well off'. Any appearances of being rich were just through the eyes of someone who had lesss than they.

"Bonjour Dr. de Courfeyrac." Gavroche said, not waiting for an introduction.

"To what do we owe this visit?" the doctor asked. "On a school day...for both of you, no less?"

"It's review time." Courfeyrac waved off, raising an eyebrow at Gavroche who minded how mcuh food he took. "I live with four guys taking the same thing, we study together."

"I know what you study." his father said. "I'm not altogether opposed but you're going to get yourself killed." and with that, Gavroche gave a short gasp and looked at Courfeyrac.

"We're getting the people behind us, Papa." Courfeyrac said. "Come and you will see, soon there will be more of us than them and the more people from your circle the better." he said, knowing it would never happen. "The people, papa, the children..." he was lost for words at what his father thought he knew but really had no idea.

"I took responsibility for MY child, let them raise their own...not to mention, having ten of them isn't the answer."

"You would have had ten if you could." he pointed out. It was no secret that Courfeyrac's very being there was after a long series of miscarriages of who knew how many would-be siblings. Had those pregnancies been successful, chances are, this particular son wouldn't be there.

"And I would have supported you. Let them work and support their own."

"SUPPORTED?" Courfeyrac said. "Some live 500 metres from their parents and they don't even acknowledge them. They are gamin, left to starve or just get sick with something and die." his eyes drifted from his father's to Gavroche.

"Did you want to come for a horse ride, Gavroche?" Mme Courfeyrac asked as they were finishing their meal. Gavroche purposely didn't eat too much. She would visit with her son another time, she needed to get the child out of there. Gavroche looked up at Courfeyrac who nodded.

"What do you want, Francois?" the doctor asked.

"Support.." Courfeyrac said it with one word. "Anywhere. I can't afford it right now, you know that. I'll pay you back, you know that, too. I just need to be able to get Gavroche away from Sainte Michel if the time should come." They talked until the late afternoon. "NOW you need a sleep." Courfeyrac said to Gavroche when his mother returned from their long ride and frolic at the farm. He and his father switched from serious conversation to a cognac and game of Parcheesi on the terrace.

"What's this?" Gavroche asked, picking up Courfeyrac's glass and taking a sip, making a face. He wouldn't be doing that again and reached for the fruit juice and some cheese that had been set for them. "What's this game?" he asked and the doctor waved him to stand in front of him to explain the game as Courfeyrac moved inside the house to talk to his mother.

"He worries, you know." she said.

"I understand." Courfeyrac nodded and had the same conversation he'd had with his father.

"Why this one?" she asked about Gavroche.

"Why not?" Courfeyrac shrugged. "We became friends, his father is appalling, Gavroche is one who isn't an orphan and I don't want him thinking his only choice is to go back to them."

"And Papa said what about this?" She asked.

"He didn't say 'no'." he shrugged. "I need one more thing." He winced, knowing he was asking a lot. "When the time comes, can Ayisha live with him?" He asked. "I know her...I can get you any number of staff, Mama." he said quickly. "And they'll work for nothing more and food and a bed. " he looked at her. "I've asked a lot of you, of both of you, I know." he nodded.

"Francois." Mme Courfeyrac said. "We will do anything for you...but street gamin?" she asked. They had sat and talked a long time and the doctor came through the doors with Gavroche, again asleep on his shoulder.

"You two played him out. We should get home." Courfeyrac said and pulled on his jacket as his mother sat with Gavroche on her lap, dressing him for outdoors.

"Take him, Papa." she said to her husband as she freed her arms to hug her son. "Mon amour." she kissed him. "You be careful." she said.

"Yes Mama." he said, feeling a bit foolish. How does one be careful with what was going on there?

"When the time comes..." the doctor said and kissed Gavroche's head before handing him back to his wife to see to the carriage that the doorman would hail. "...bring or send him to the university and we will have him picked up."

Courfeyrac's face froze for a second before he began to smile and finally surrendered to the tears. "I will...thank you Papa." he hugged him and kissed his cheeks. He could hear that their carriage was approaching and he reached his arms out to take Gavroche. "Thank you both." he said with as much voice as he could muster between joy and not wanting to wake the sleeping boy.

"Francois?" Mme Courfeyrac said. "A girl. Can you send a little girl, too?"

"Of course, Mama." He nodded. She would get her little doll to dress in ribbons and bows at last. He walked to the carriage and looked up and down his street. "Gav..." he patted his back until the little boy woke. "Look." he pointed to the street lamps that were lit.

"Mmmmnice." Gavroche yawned.


	8. Fishing- Enjolras

Fishing - Enjolras

For the first time since he had any kinds of ideas about the revolution, moving to the slums or rounding up a bunch of rebels, Enjolras had butterflies in his stomach. It wasn't that the whole situation had gotten bigger than he thought, it wasn't half as big as he wanted it but it had taken a weird angle he hadn't counted on.

He had fallen in love. Oh his first passion was still Patria but the gamin...the very reason they WERE fighting had fallen into his hands. They were not just pickpockets and flea ridden heads to pat as he walked by. He had always recognised the situation as desperate but Gavroche had always seemed so grown up and independent. It all changed as he got to know the others. It was not just about them, it was not just 'the people', it was the next generation, the future. He took a deep breath as he loaded his books back in his bag and walked out into the spring air. The blossoms were at their peak. It smelled grand. The university grounds always did. He didn't notice the stink of Sainte Michel until he was away from it and when Joly turned up with Nico, he noticed the difference. Nico was clean and pressed but there was still the odour of Sainte Michel on him. Not strong, not like it was on the street but usually his nostrils were 'eased' into it. Oh well, hopefully he'd air out the further they walked.

"Where are we going?" Nico asked, holding Enjolras' coat until Enjolras switched to holding his hand.

"We are going to my parents' house." he said. "It's not far." Nico looked around, remembering when they, too lived in a similar neighbourhood. Mostly, Nico noticed the nice shoes. He couldn't remember when he got the boots he had but he remembered his first few months on the street with rags tied around his feet.

"What are their names?" Nico asked.

"Well, Monsieur and Madame Enjolras, to you." Enjolras said.

"Do they call you Sylvain?" Nico asked.

"Be foolish to call me anything else, wouldn't it?" he smiled and they turned to the crescent where the Enjolrases had their city home. Their estate home was fancier but it wasn't practical to live there while Enjolras' father still worked in Paris.

"Bonjour, Nanny Caroline." he smiled when he came through the door. Nico looked at him, it was so rare to see him smiling.

"Ah! Syl..." she stopped to see the little boy with blonde curly hair attached to Enjolras' hand. "Sylvain?" she asked slowly...doing some math in her head. "Did you forget to tell us something?"

"No...no-no Nanny." Enjolras almost laughed and introduced the two. "I am teaching in the evenings and Nico here is one of my students." he said, giving Nico a nudge that said 'just go with it.'

"And just what is it that you teach children like this?" Mr Enjolras came through the door.

"Same as you taught me, Papa." the younger Enjolras told him. "How to stay true to yourself, stand for what you believe in and fight for your right to believe in it."

"And what do you believe in, boy?" he looked down at Nico, who shrugged one shoulder. "He doesn't even know?"

"He gets confused." Enjolras lied. "We teach him both sides and he's yet to make up his mind."

"So - you go to school and tutor every day before going home to those shithouse pigs in Sainte Michel?" the senior Enjolras asked.

"Something like that, yes." his son answered.

"I talk with Doctor Courfeyrac, he says Francois is still with you. We don't talk about it much though, he's more on the fence with this."

"Maybe it's just that he supports his son." Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "Anyway, I wanted you to meet Nico, he wanted to meet you. Would you meet with me some evening? Not here but closer to the university...unless of course you want to come to Sainte..."

"Absolutely not!" Mr Enjolras objected and as he turned around, Enjolras giggled. He knew it wouldn't be an option.

"Where's Mama?" he asked.

"Somewhere eating brie and drinking fancy coffee..."

"I need to talk to you both." Enjolras said. "But I guess I can start here. Nanny..." he called to the lady who was now just a housekeeper. "Can you take Nico for about an hour?" he asked and sent Nico with the nanny as his father watched him walk away...the ghosts of fifteen years ago following him as he watched the curly blond hair vanish around the corner.

"It's..." Enjolras said, sitting down after realising he was waiting for permission to do so. He gave a frustrated sigh.

"You started something you can't finish?" his father asked.

"I didn't start it, Papa." Enjolras said, accepting the glass of wine he was handed by another staff member. "Not by a long shot but I fully stand behind it. You fully stand behind what you believe, can't you understand that my beliefs are just as important to me?" he almost pleaded. "But that's not what I'm here for. We'll never see each other on that matter." he waved off. "Papa...if you could just see what's down there, you'd understand it better...BUT YOU WON'T." he said, not shouting, just talking over his father's protestations to the invitation to the slums. "With General LaMarque so ill, we won't have anything but ourselves..." he despaired. "...if it were just me, Papa, I wouldn't care..."

"I CARE!" Monsieur Enjolras shouted so loud his son almost ducked. "You think I like the thought of you down there...yes, you're fighting for what you believe in and for THAT I'm proud of you but you're just asking to be killed - and for people who would never do the same for you." he tried to make his son understand.

Enjolras backed down when he heard his father say a few things. First, that he cared. He had never said that before. It was only his mother who told him that he was mad because he cares. Enjolras had stopped believing that ages ago and here...it was true? The other thing that stopped him was him saying he was proud of him. He knew Marius had his grandfather's disdain and disgust. Courfeyrac had his father's love and even support but not enough to help. Some of the other students' fathers were gone, others had full support but lived very far away and hadn't seen them in years. "Well Papa then you will understand..." he said, exhausted. Maybe they were on the same page after all. "...to watch these children so vulnerable." he shook his head.

"They're not your children." Monsieur Enjolras told him. "You will, some day see the difference between YOUR child and A child."

"God willing." Enjolras nodded but had a hunch there would be no woman willing to marry and bear children for someone so one-tracked.

"And what does Nico's parents have to say?" he asked. "They're rat bag poor and want us to take their child?"

"No." Enjolras said. "He has no parents but I don't ask you to take him." he shook his head. "The estate home in Toulon..." he started.

"Why don't you just take him to the orphanage?" M. Enjolras ignored his son.

"Have you seen inside an orphanage?" Enjolras asked. "I dare you, come with me." he held his hand out, knowing he wouldn't come. "Yeah, you KNOW why I'm not taking him there."

"Sylvain..." Monsieur Enjolras said and pointed to his son's hands. "What are those?"

"Flea bites." Enjolras admitted, knowing it would appall his father but he was almost proud of them at that time.

"You don't need to let that happen..." the elder said.

"They're okay." Enjolras said. "A bit itchy at times but I get my good clothes laundered properly elsewhere."

"They get in your hair too?" the father asked.

"Yes...no I mean..." Enjolras could see that his father was now more preoccupied with the way his son was living in spite of the advantages he had. "They would but we've got treatments that we use when we wash our hair...and the children..."

"What children?" M. Enjolras asked.

"Those children." Enjolras pointed towards the door that Nico had gone through.

"Where does he live?"

"With me...with us." Enjolras said. "We've taken a few in..." he paused while his father sighed and rolled his eyes. "Toulon, Papa." he repeated.

"What about it?" M. Enjolras asked as though he and his son had been talking about the stock exchange or the football matches up to that point.

"Can we send the children there?" asked the son.

"Mai non!" the father replied. "You want to take the people out of those areas and put them in our house? There is a house full of silk and gold and if you think we're going to open it up to some filthy little..."

"Papa!" Enjolras stopped him. "That's why I brought Nico along."

"What does this have to do with him?" M. Enjolras asked.

"He IS one of the gamin, Papa." Enjolras sat back in his chair, watching his father process what he had just told him. They sat in silence, the son and the father with their eyes locked on each other. "That's what I said." he finally nodded. "You wouldn't know by looking at him, would you? You wouldn't know at the cafe either, Papa." Enjolras said. "You take them off the street, you give them baths, school and a nice bed to sleep in, you can't tell right?" he asked. "Papa...THAT is ME but for the grace of God."

"But for the grace of your parents." M. Enjolras said.

"Oui!" Enjolras nodded. "You have blessed me with anything I needed every day of my life...even more. My trip here today is not to make me seem ungrateful." he pointed out. That was the last thing he wanted his father to think - that he was throwing it all back in his face. "If you were to go down there..." he stopped and closed his eyes and mouth for a second as his father protested. "...I know you won't but IF you did, everything would make sense. You would see just how much you have..."

"I WORKED for it." M. Enjolras said.

"You did, Papa!" Enjolras acknowledged. "You still do, and your father did before you too...yes...God bless him." he was reminded to always honour his grandfather's memory. "You both taught me how to work for what you want and I promise you I am not going to disappoint you. I will work hard and keep our name honourable..." he realised this was steering off course. "But this is going to get ugly before it gets better and we need a safe place...just for awhile, Papa." he said when he could see his father was not going to budge. "Saint Michel is a shit hole, you know that even though you've never seen it but it's full of good good people who just want a chance. This is going to give their children a chance."

"And, while you take them down there, what happens to your studies? This big advancement you're planning, you plan on putting those on hold?" M. Enjolras asked.

"I'm...not going." the son answered, knowing that was going to be the end of it. "We have people to send with the children. Every one of us has staff in their house that's not needed." he pointed out. "You have five maids, Nanny Caroline would be great down there, Courfeyrac has his former nanny."

"The coloured girl." M. Enjolras nodded.

"Yes. I don't remember her name but those are the people we can send. A few of the women from Sainte Michel, too."

"Whores?"

"They're not whores!" Enjolras said. "Well, most aren't and those who are, it's because there's nothing else they can do for money."

"No." M. Enjolras finally said, unable to imagine his fine property inhabited by God knows who. "You send that boy here." he pointed to the floor in front of him. "We will see to him..."

"...he has a sister." Enjolras said, quite out of breath and his father sighed. "It's just two children, Papa. They weren't born on the street either, they had all this..." he waved around and explained what had happened to Nico and Minette.

"Two." M. Enjolras held up his fingers. "C'est ca."

"Oui, Papa." Enjolras said - not sure if he won or lost this round but it was going to be the best he could hope for. He didn't want the kids split up. He had no idea of the plans that Courfeyrac had already made with his parents but at least Nico and Minette would be together. He'd let Combeferre know. "C'est ca. Merci."

"Sylvain!" Mme Enjolras' voice sounded, coming into the parlour.

"Allo, Mama." Enjolras stood up and kissed her, waiting for her to sit down before he took his seat again and explained everything again.

"I thought the air felt a bit tense when I came in." the mother said.

"Anyway, you'll meet Nico when Nanny comes back with him and I didn't think to bring Minette because she's..." he paused for a moment. They wouldn't understand if he said that she wasn't his. "...she's busy with other things."

"How soon is this going to be?" Mme Enjolras asked.

"I don't know, Mama. I think, more sooner than later, it'll depend on General LaMarque's health but if it erupts at a moment's notice and I send them in a carriage, you'll pay the hire won't you?" he asked. He may just be throwing them into a carriage and giving the driver the address. He would actually make sure Nico had it written down and carried with him at all times. Maybe give Minette her own copy.

"Oh! Mon Dieu!" she got up and rang the bell for the maids. "We need beds made up and rooms dusted..."

"I wouldn't count on tonight, Mama." Enjolras laughed but she had a good point, nobody knew what time of day or night it was going to happen. He got up again and started walking towards the back of the house, pretty sure Nanny would be feeding Nico some kind of evening snack even though he wasn't going to be going to bed there.

"What else can we do?" Mme Enjolras asked once they left the earshot of the head of the household.

"You have done plenty." Enjolras said and when his mother took his hand, she dropped a gold ring into it. "Mama..." he choked up.

"You're probably running out of money." she said.

"We're okay, really." he handed it back to her but she put it in his breast pocket. "All that matters is that they stay safe." he said. "However..." he said as they hunted for Nico. "...you know at night, after bath and you'll wait in the parlour for them to come in and say goodnight?" he said, remembering that special time. "Maybe...go to them after the bath. Get them ready for bed, tell them stories, listen to their prayers and tuck them in." he said.

"Is that where we messed up?" she asked him.

"Kinda'." Enjolras said. "If you say it like that...but it would have been nice." he didn't get snotty about it but for as much as he knew they loved him and the family did a lot together, he missed them at bedtime. He didn't notice it before but now that the usual routine of the common room at the cafe getting full of fresh bathed kids, taking them to bed, listening to Jean Prouvaire's poems and the others telling stories, he saw he got a bit ripped off. "Nico!" he said when they found him snacking. He introduced the boy to his mother and they talked awhile.

"Why did I meet them?" Nico asked as he and Enjolras walked home.

"People don't understand, Nico - what it is that keeps us...who come from here...down in Sainte Michel. When they meet you, they understand."


	9. Fishing - Grantaire

Fishing - Grantaire

What Grantaire needed was a clear head and the only way for him to clear his head was to get drunk. He couldn't think straight when he was sober. All efforts to relocate the children together were falling through and the students were making provisions separately. It would be hard on the children, they were now used to being together. Nobody knew if the students started it or if the children but they all referred to each other as brother and sister by now. Margurite was still very clingy to Grantaire - something he still didn't understand but accepted. She would stay with the other students and children for the day while he was in school but once he was back home, she was quick to protest if he left again, even if it was just to go out back. How was he going to take her anywhere and leave her?

He had inquired at orphanages. There weren't a lot he was allowed to go into and look around because many were convents. He didn't want to leave her at a convent but the other orphanages he had been allowed to look into were the less preferable of the choice. "I don't know her history...no, I'm not her father." he told the sisters at the convent, who would rather turn her away being as she was probably conceived out of wedlock and of a less than reputable mother. "Wouldn't that mean she needs you more than ever?" he asked desperately and was just told to take 'HIS daughter' somewhere else. "She's not mine." he told them again but they didn't appear to believe him.

He promised her he wouldn't leave her. He couldn't leave her forever but he had to face facts of things that would be beyond his control. Tears stung his eyes and tightened his chest as he thought about taking her to another slum and leaving her there. He couldn't do that...he had to think of WHAT to do. He worked on getting her comfortable and more ready to communicate with people other than him. He bought childrens' books and worked with his sign language books, neither of them picking up speed but both willing to try and teach some of the others. Thank God the other children sat in on the process so at least she would have them if her life were to continue without him. He was NOT going to lose anyone else to the system of non-traceability way he had lost his mother and sister. GOD he wished he knew where his mother was, she would, no doubt take her. Thanks to his father, there were no ties with his extended family.

The Grantaire house wasn't large but comfortable...but what good was that when it was just a drunken old man in there? If he was going to leave her alone with a drunk, he'd take her and be gone...but he had to stay and fight with the others whether he wanted to or not. He had more of a cause now that he saw the children, especially THEIR children. Day by day, Enjolras' efforts made more sense but he was still uncomfortable with the situation they were leading them into.

"Merde! Now what?" he said to the sky when a message came to meet at his father's law office. While a judge, he maintained the law office he had started and built, as he waited for the shingle to change to "Grantaire and Son" even though the Junior knew that would NEVER be the case. He was already forever racking his brain to think of what to use for his name when he went into the business.. His father's business was honourable and clean but he didn't want to be associated with Henri Grantaire. He went to the office straight from school while his clothes were presentable and his head was clear, fully expecting to hear his funding had been cut.

"We...don't know how to tell you this..." the staff said as they gathered around. "They found your father in his office, he shot himself. We're so sorry." they expressed sympathy, having no idea what the Hon. Henri Grantiare's true colours were.

Grantaire's facial expression showed nothing. By rights he should be elated, and he would be but he was pretty pissed off with his father. Was he going to be dependent now? God knows he was well off enough they could hire full time care of him but Grantaire was still in school. The company, the household, was he ready to take on all that? Could his father have been less of a convenience at that time?

"They need you at the hospital now before he dies..." they said, directing him to a carriage. Dies? He was dying? How were they going to expect the only heir of this monster to be sad? Now it was a race against time...there were things he needed to know.

The senior Grantaire was almost out of his mind by the time his son got there. He'd had to get very intoxicated before he could even pull the trigger and now he had only half of his face. "Papa." Grantaire said, trying to remind himself he was supposed to be upset. He sat by his bed and took his hand.

"Am I forgiven?" his father asked.

"Papa...tell me...what did you do with Mama and Victoire?" he asked. "Where are they?" he asked and finally it was revealed. Henri had taken them to the docks and bought them passages to America. The plan had been to just send Victoire but Margurite insisted she go with her daughter. She abandoned her son with a sadistic bastard who gave him years of mental and physical torture...he would decide if he was angry with her later. "WHERE, Papa?" he asked, knowing how big America was. Frustrated by the shrug his father gave, he started crying. "Why?" he asked.

"She didn't have a hope here, Georges." he said.

"You could have put her in the finest hospital here, Papa." he told him.

"They said her heart was bad. They all have bad hearts, the doctor said."

Grantaire held his hand to his forehead. "Do you even know if she's alive or dead?" he asked and his father, fading fast nodded. "Alive or dead, Papa?" he asked again.

"Am I forgiven, my son?" he asked again.

"Is she alive?" he changed the question. "Answer me!" he cried. "Open your eyes...eye..." he corrected himself as the great Hon. Grantaire now sported bandages on half his face. "...Look at me!" Grantaire cried desperately in vain. He was gone...and so was the hope of ever knowing.

Numb, almost remotely Grantaire walked back to the law firm. "I guess there's no contest." the secretary said as they offered his condolences. She brought out the strong box and opened it. On top of the stack of papers was a death certificate dated two years after the last time he had seen his sister.

"Touche' Papa." he mumbled. "You sick bastard, you knew all along."

"We're all very sorry, Georges. Your father was a good man."

"Good man?" Grantaire asked. "You want to know what a good man he was?" The women were a bit appalled as he took off his waist coat and pulled up his shirt, showing them the years of scars on his back. "I can't show you any more without being arrested." he told them. "He had his daughter committed..." he held up the death certificate for the Victoire Grantaire they didn't even know existed.

"You are his only kin." the representing lawyer said. "We wait your advice on what to do with the estate." The whole staff waited, knowing that their jobs could all be cut immediately, should the son decide to close the firm.

What was going to be his first decision? "You do adoptions, no doubt?" he asked and the lawyer nodded. "Bring me papers." he said. Nobody was going to take Margurite away from him and cast her into the oblivion, turning her into nothing more than a piece of paper in a strong box. "Give me a few more to go." he said. He would take them to the cafe. These children would have next-of-kin if worse went to worst.


	10. Fishing - Combeferre

Fishing - Combeferre

"You're awfully quiet tonight." Combeferre said as Enjolras wasn't his usual rebel-rousing self that evening in the cafe. Enjolras took a deep breath and sighed.

"I guess I should be happy with what I got." he said after explaining what he had set out to do that time. "I just really wanted them to stick together." he remembered any time he went through something troubling, how lonely it was being the only child and wishing there was someone is age going through the same thing as he was so he would have some comfort. "But at least I have Nico and Minette together and that's twice as much as I had expected. I hadn't expected my father to say he would take one, let alone two." he had to look at the bright side. With Jean Prouvaire's parents both deceased, he wouldn't have had anyone to take Minette. She wasn't going to fare well for the first little while but they saw she would eventually become her shy, sweet self and it would be hard to not warm up to Mme Enjolras. Even M. Enjolras...he was everything his son was. Tough and appearing at first to be uncaring but if you could get through the outer shell then there was warmth and security under it.

Oddly enough, the children still had no idea what was going on. Everything was talked about around corners or after they had been put to bed or, to be safe, not at all. Combeferre had a few ideas for Fleur but none of them panned out. His mother had died of the fever a few years back and his sister was in a dorm at university. His father wasn't really willing to take a child and the rest of his family just wanted to remain uninvolved. It was as though they believed that if they took the girl, they were going to be marked as rebels and punished.

"It's not like that." he had told various aunts. "It's just until I come for her. I do plan on taking her back, I'm not dumping her forever."

"IF you come back, Yvan." the matriarch of his extended family said.

"I do plan on it." he nodded. There was a great risk, he knew that but if it were in his power, the only way he wouldn't be coming to get her was if he perished in the battle.

"Yvan." his sister came to him later that night. "I would take her if I could." she promised.

"I know." he turned from the fence he was leaning on and hugged her. They had grown up very close. "I guess I'll just have to leave her at a convent until after it's over."

"What does she look like?" Danielle asked.

"Her hair is jet black, her eyes are like emeralds. She has..." he stroked his sister's fine face. "...porcelain skin, like you. You really could pass for sisters."

"Well, she can't very well stay with me in the dorm!" Danielle remarked and Combeferre nodded. "Hang on...what if I wasn't IN a dorm? You don't HAVE to live at that cafe, you know." she pointed out. "You can move back to your flat, the one you have before going on this...project." she waved towards the slums. "Yvan, get your flat back, get one close to the university and she can stay with me."

"Your studies." he shook his head, knowing how hard first year of med school was. "You won't have the time to take care of a child." he said. "There are six of us at the cafe and we have to alternate so that we can all get studying time and school time and relaxation time and...even this visit was 'scheduled' so that someone was home with the kids."

Danielle smiled. She could see that the children meant everything to her brother. That didn't surprise her - she never doubted that she, too, meant everything to him. "Well, it's an option." she shrugged. He nodded and kissed her forehead before heading back to the cafe to think it over.

She had offered a brilliant solution though. He could rent the flat again and put her in there with Fleur...and it wouldn't be a problem to find a nanny. The young women who have had to turn to the street to make ends meet often went missing and nobody knew if they had been kidnapped, killed or merely 'hired' by a family.

He had something to take his mind off of the matter when he got back to the cafe. Minette was fevered and in a lot of pain in her ears. Joly looked at them and noticed they were a bit pink in there but there was no infection and she didn't want to sit long with him anyway. He was harmless but he shooed the kids away from him like they were toxic so they didn't exactly feel the love from him. He was glad to see Combeferre come into the cafe so that his obligations were finished and he briefly explained what was wrong.

"Let's see, Bebe." Combeferre said to Minette, who readily went over to him and stood still for him to look into her ears. He felt her glands then had her open her mouth. "It's not her ears..." Combeferre said to Joly. "...it's her teeth." he pointed out that there was two broken molars. Judging by her temperature, there was more going on there and something would have to be done pronto.

"Can you pull them?" Jean Prouvaire asked when he got home and Combeferre explained what was going on. He held Minette on his lap just wrapped in a blanket so that it was easier to give her cool baths.

"I'm not going to." Combeferre said. "She'll never let me near her again but I'll bring a dental student home tomorrow, someone she'll never see again. That's only part of the problem though." he explained about the fever and infection. He handed her back to Prouvaire. "Maybe take our room for the night." he said, as Jean was still sleeping on the dining room table and Minette under the corner table.

Things like this were more of a worry. What if he left Fleur with Danielle and a nanny and she got ill? Rotten teeth were not exactly rare. Gavroche's front teeth always looked on the verge of snapping and nobody could believe he still had them. He focused again on where he was when Fleur came over with a cup of tea and cookie for both of them. She put it in front of him and climbed on the chair next to him, blowing on her tea before trying to sip. "What's happening?" she whispered, rubbing his arm.

"Kind of...grown up stuff, darling." he told her and smiled as he took his teacup in his hand and blew on it. "Bigger than I could explain it to you."

"Everyone seems so angry." she said.

"Not angry...well...yes angry but..." he sighed. "...not at you and not at each other." he assured her.

"Angry about out there." she pointed out the window.

"Yes." he nodded. "Fleur..." he said. "...let me see your teeth...swallow your cookie!" he said quickly. Fleur was so much in with the boys, their habits and talk that he wasn't sure WHAT he was going to get back to after things were over. Hanging their tongues out with food on them was a particular favourite of Fleur and the boys. While he was at it, he checked her hands and feet for splinters and her hair for bugs. He kissed her forehead after he was done and gave a silent smile.

"You're very sad." she said, stroking his face. "Frere Yvan..." she asked and waved him to get his face very close. "Everyone is going to another house soon...what about me?" she whispered.

He had no idea she knew what was going on. "When did you get to be so smart?" he asked her and pulled her onto his lap. "I'm still looking, Fleur." he said "I won't stop looking."

"I can run really fast." she said.

"You are NOT going to run away!" he told her. "Promise me." he held her by the shoulders and looked into her green eyes then held her to him. "You picked me." he reminded her. "I will find somewhere for you to go...I promise...I promise...I promise." he said, kissing her forehead with each promise. Danielle's idea was as good as any. "Do you know any of the ladies out there?" he asked.

"I'm not joining them!" she said.

"No...I mean taking one of them with you to take care of you." he clarified.

"Oh yeah, I think so." she said and finished her tea and yawned. Sleeping in Minette's bed sounded fun for one night and she knew Combeferre was sad so she wasn't going to be awkward.

A few hours after Jean Prouvaire and Minette had gone to bed, Combeferre made up a poultice of oatmeal, tea and cloves and put it in a little pouch of fabric then went to get Minette out of bed. She was hot and lethargic. So out of it she didn't even protest being taken out of the sleeping Prouvaire's arms. He carried her around awhile to get a feel for her fever and feel how weak she was then sat in a chair. "Open your mouth, Bebe." he said, stuffing the small poultice in her mouth. "Bite." he said and she did before leaning her head onto his shoulder. He gave her a kiss and rocked her awhile before putting her back to bed. By the time he got back to the common room with the mattress for the table, Margurite was in there looking around. "Hey..." he said quietly and went over so that he didn't startle her when she turned around. Grantaire's snoring seemed particularly loud that night. They didn't think that it would bother her but they could tell that his voice comforted her more than others and when she was having a wakeful night, she would put her little hand on his throat to feel the vibration, so she was hearing something. There was a little bit of boiled water still in the pitcher on the counter so Combeferre gave that to her and got her to open her mouth so he could check her teeth. She was a mystery. How old was she? She was petit but she may have been ill as a baby.

She sat on his lap and rested her head back against him as he studied a bit more until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He carried her back to the bedroom and lay her on her bed then went over to Grantaire's passed out body. "Now...how does Enjolras do this..." he said under his breath and grabbed Grantaire's arm and leg from his side closest the wall, flipping him on his side with the wall to brace him from rolling on his back again. "Sorry..." he whispered and patted Grantaire's head as he knew it had hit the wall. He took Margurite and laid her beside Grantaire so he didn't roll that way either.

He snuck into his room where Prouvaire and Minette were sound asleep and changed into his nighshirt then padded back out to the common room where the mattress was on the table. "Merde!" he said, stepping on a splinter. The kids would have a field day with that if he knew what'd happened. He picked it out then extinguished the gas lamp, crawling up onto the table.

He was almost asleep when he felt the mattress weigh down. It wasn't a wide table or a wide mattress but he moved over a bit so Fleur could lie under the blankets, too.

"We'll think of something." she said and kissed his cheek.


	11. Getting Bigger

**A/N - sorry for my silence. I've had a hard time getting from point A to point B so this is a bit bland. Thank you everyone for feedback, e-mails and follows. Like the students, I have fallen for these children.**

By the time the authorities realised that none of this was overseen by Hon. Henri Grantaire, the deed would be done and signed by a bona fide lawyer even if it took threatening on of his father's longest term lawyer in his employ. Grantaire wished he could have run home with the paperwork he had and he was so worked up, he easily forgot that he was supposed to be grieving. He would have to look at funeral arrangements, it would be expected to be grand. Later...he needed a drink and stopped in at a cafe for an hour.

"Enjolras! Courfeyrac!" he hollered when he got to the common room of the cafe absolutely drunk out of his mind, bringing his two law student friends running. He threw the papers on the table. Help me with these. He said and each man took a package.

"You went to see your FATHER?" Courfeyrac asked...then realised, they had to do anything they could to look after these children. "This is from his firm?"

"MY firm, mon frere." Grantaire said, grabbing his bag and pulling another bottle out of there. "A toast to the late Honourable Henri Georges Grantaire." he took a swig then spat it on the floor. "That's his part." he said, taking a swig for himself.

"LATE?" Courfeyrac said. Nobody knew what to say but offering condolences, they knew were not necessary.

"Oui!" Grantaire said. "The firm, the house...his accounts and assets...your brother here is stinking rich, or WILL be." he said, toasting them again. It was fortunate he had a cause now or he would have breezed through that money in no time.

"ADOPTION?" Enjolras asked. He was the only one who had read the papers and Grantaire spilled ink and pens out of his bag, handing them around the circle. "How?" he asked as Feuilly brought the typewriter from the counter over to the table.

"Like this!" Grantaire said. "Nico!" he called, feeding the form into the typewriter. "What's your last name?" he asked, directing Feuilly to start typing...he couldn't have hit the right keys if he'd tried. Feuilly typed L-a-m-o-n-d-e on the top line. "Middle name?" he asked. When Nico said he didn't have one, he asked Enjolras "What's your father's name?"

"Lucien...but..." Enjolras answered and stopped when he saw Grantaire filling in the blank of middle name and adoptive father as Lucien Enjolras. "In the event of untimely death and incapacity, until Nicolas Lucien Enjolras is the age of sixteen, he will be in care and custody of his brother Sylvain Lucien Enjolras." he mumbled and Enjolras' lightbulb went on. "Minette!" he hollered and waved her Jean Prouvaire over.

"Backdate it." Grantaire said, blowing on the ink of Nico's form and pulling his father's stamp out of his bag and stopping before he stamped it. "Needs your father's signature." he realised.

"You will NOT get that." Enjolras said.

"Not from him, but..." he handed it to Courfeyrac "...Monsieur Enjolras if you would be so kind." all incredibly illegitimate but it was only for effect in case any authorities questioned it. It was unlikely, the authorities didn't care but sometimes just to be hard they would stir trouble. After it was over, they could finalise it and make it legal if they needed to.

"What's your middle name?" Jean Prouvaire asked Minette.

"My name is just Helene." she shrugged and they realised they didn't even think she had a first name until they remembered these two weren't from the streets. "No!" she stopped Feuilly from typing. "How can we have different last names?" she asked but he continued to dictate to Feuilly, putting his late father as Minette's father. "Until the event of untimely death or ...in the custody of her Godfather Sylvain Lucien Enjolras." he wrote. "We'll see that you stay together." he promised.

"Ours isn't going to be that simple..." Courfeyrac said. Gavroche had parents...and a surname.

"No harder than the rest, really." Grantaire said and Feuilly typed Gavroche Francois Courfeyrac on the next page. Gavroche could read a little bit and when he saw his new name, he gave a mucky toothed grin. He liked how it looked. "Don't have to be so picky, none of this is legal." he said.

"Not much of it is necessary, either." Feuilly said. "Nobody cares what becomes of these children, they won't even notice them gone."

"Well, this is to make sure we KNOW where they go." Enjolras said. "Fleur!" he called and the jade eyed beauty came over. "What's your middle name?" he asked.

"Wait a minute..." Feuilly stopped production. "What's your FIRST name?" he asked, as she was just nicknamed by Combeferre.

"Daphne." she said quietly, looking as the floor.

"Really?" Combeferre asked. "Daphne what?" he asked and she shook her head and wouldn't tell. "What's wrong?"

"It's...not from around here." she said. "It's a Greek name." she said. This explained the thick black hair she had and exotic looks. "Just Daphne...but I like Fleur. Please don't stop calling me that. It's special. "

"Cheri, it's just on paper." Combeferre smiled. How could he call her by any other name now? "What do you want for a middle name?"

"Yvonne?" she asked, again looking at the floor. A few of them smiled as the keys clicked out her new name. "But where am I going?" she asked, poised anxiously to see what last name she was going to be assigned. "I don't know, Cheri." Combeferre shook his head and okayed for his father's name to be put on there. The idea of renting the flat for her and Danielle was tempting and Fleur could take care of herself all day but he didn't want to give his sister that responsibility in her first year of university. His fear was that something would happen, Fleur would be sent to his father, who had no knowledge of this and she would end up either back on the street or in an orphanage anyway.

Courfeyrac pointed to the page. "Mama wants a girl, too." he remembered and Feuilly filled the last name in. The obvious choice would be Peep, as Grantaire had no family to pass her onto but he wasn't sure if his parents were willing to take a child who couldn't hear. She would need more care, especially for the first few weeks that she would be adjusting to life without Grantaire. Fleur would also be a good choice but Combeferre was seemingly in the midst of a plan, so, while the offer was open, Courfeyrac left the decision to Combeferre. "Just fill in the first name...Juliette Marie..." he told him. He would get Gavroche to find a little girl, willing to change her name in exchange for a home.

"'Allo? Francois?" a voice called, coming cautiously up the wooden stairs. Courfeyrac went over and looked over the railing almost not believing what he saw. His mother in her rich lady clothes climbing the scabby, often iffy stairs of Cafe Musain. He reached he hand out to help her the rest of the way. "There are so many children out there...how did you pick?" she asked, removing her handkerchief away from her face now that the smell of human manure wasn't so strong. "Bonjour Sylvain." she nodded at Enjolras who gave up his seat. "More pamphlets?" she asked, looking at the typewriter.

"Oui Madame." Combeferre said and casually slid the papers out of her sight and the children gathered around, introducing themselves.

"Why are you here?" Courfeyrac asked, shooing the children away from her so they didn't get her dirty.

"You told us to come see for ourselves..." she said, shocking the hell out of her son. He had NOT expected either of his parents to take him up on it. He reached out and took the bottle she held out to him. "I heard there are fleas here." she said.

"There are fleas ...yes." Courfeyrac laughed and opened the bottle and went to take a drink until his mother stopped him. It was said to keep the fleas off. Someone had introduced her to the mixture of lemon, rosemary and geranium. It didn't kill the fleas but it would keep them from biting. She would show them how to make it and bring more when she came back. "When you...come back..." he repeated. It was getting more and more dangerous there and he didn't even know how much longer the children would be there for, let alone the rich lady in the sky blue dress. "Mama, make sure if you're coming back that you send word ahead. I'd rather that one of us meet you elsewhere and walks in with you." he said and the other students nodded.

"Would you like tea, Madame?" Fleur asked. "Madame Courfeyrac?" she repeated and placed a cup of tea on the table. It was awkward. The woman knew that the water had been boiled and the dishes were clean but everyone there was used to living there. She knew that her son had several gastro-intestinal episodes the more and more time he spent there until his system got used to it all and the others had probably been no different.

"Not today, Cheri." she said and patted Fleur's head. "Thank you...you're beautiful!" she looked at Courfeyrac who shook his head as if to say 'not this one'.

"If you're going to come back here, Mama and I don't think it's a good idea that you do, you may want to dress down a bit." Courfeyrac said as he walked her safely outside of Sainte Michel. He noticed that at least she had the sense to take off her jewelry. She had no 'old clothes' but he would get her some if she insisted upon coming back.

What brought her there in the first place was to see what they needed. Until her son visited, she had only thought of the adult students safe in the cafe with the filthy kids playing in the street. She knew there were some children in the cafe but then she met Gavroche and saw how special he was to Courfeyrac. Once in the cafe, she realised what her son had told her all along. There was nothing they needed there. Everything they needed was outside the walls of the slums. They needed safe places to stay. She would pay a visit to the Enjolras household and let them know what she saw.

"The little deaf girl..." she said. "Is she really safe with your friend..."

"...Grantaire." Courfeyrac reminded her of his name. "She is safer with him than anywhere else on the planet." he told her. "It's bizarre, I know." It was something all of them wondered from the minute the first tiny seeds were planted the day she came running in and Grantaire grabbed her. They were not the only ones surprised. Grantaire's own objections to getting close to this child was something they would all have agreed with. But the child knew. And for the child's sake he tried to stop drinking, and he might try again some day. For the child's sake he was home in the evenings instead of carousing with the stablemaids and loose women. As time wore on, they understood why. He had suffered a lot of guilt over his failure to hold on to his sister. He was the only one to blame him. He was a child too, what could he have done? But he wasn't about to let this one go. Then was the issue of the appearance. Margurite's black hair curled in pretty much the same pattern as Grantaire's. Chances are that Victoire's did, too.

"She needs a mother." Mme Courfeyrac said quickly.

"Only way she will settle with ANY other parent is if Grantaire comes with the deal." Courfeyrac laughed. "And it'd be harder marrying HIM off than it would be to get parents for Peep."

"He is young." his mother shrugged.

"Oui." Courfeyrac said. "After this is all over and settled down...Mama...NO." he said when she started talking about the daughters of their friends. He didn't want his mother playing matchmaker at all but not in the rising of the revolution or while he was in school. To put it bluntly, he liked playing the field like he was able to do in school. If he were to get serious with any girl of the high society circle, he would have to say good-bye to his tomcat days. "We're ALL young." he rolled his eyes to the starry sky and noticed the gas lamps with decorative baskets of flowers hanging from them. A carriage would be easy to get from here and they walked to a theatre where there would be public ones.

"Any time, Francois." Mme deCourfeyrac said. "We can take Gavroche." she rested her hand on the side of his face. "We worry..." she said.

"Soon, Mama." he said, thinking of the printing that had probably resumed as soon as they stepped away from the cafe. "The more people like you who come forward, the better."


	12. And Bigger Still

"We need to take Minette to get some teeth pulled." Combeferre told Jean Prouvaire as they studied at the table while the little girl slept in the little room Combeferre shared with Fleur. "A couple of friends will do it..." he felt a bit sad. He was going to be taking her there so there was a risk that she wouldn't trust HIM after it all happened either. She was old enough to understand after the fact why it was done and especially after the infection was gone but he still felt like he was betraying her. "So come back here as soon as you're out of school so that when we get back, you'll be here for her." he said and Prouvaire nodded.

Minette was still running a fever and her eyes were glassy. It was Enjolras' day to stay home with the kids that day but he couldn't expect Nico to let his guard down. Their parents died of the fever and now his sister was appearing to be going the same way. No matter how they explained it was about her teeth, it wouldn't relax him and it didn't take away from the fact that she really was ill. "Do you want to go with them?" Enjolras asked Nico. The thing was, she really wouldn't have any idea that they were taking her anywhere associated with pain. It would be the during and after that would be the problem.

"I think I should." Nico said. "If she cries..."

"Oh, she'll cry." Enjolras assured him.

"Yeah..." Nico nodded. "...and I'll at least be able to hold her hand." he said. They had been in dentist's chairs before, they knew it meant pain, it was just a matter of how much Minette was aware of in her present condition.

Combeferre came home and dropped off his book bag. He took a small glass and some of Grantaire's absinthe then went into the bedroom where Minette slept on the mattress. She was very hot and not making much sense when she talked. He held her and tipped the glass to her lips. She didn't like it but he told her it was medicine and she had to admit, it was numbing her pain. When she dozed off again, Combeferre picked her up and carried her out. His legs were long and Nico had to almost jog to keep up with him sometimes but it had to all be done before she realised what was going on.

The dental classroom had some functioning stations and the students were allowed to practice on real people, just not charge and there was no guarantees that things weren't going to mess up. Combeferre laid Minette into the big chair and kissed her head, unsure if he should stay but she seemed to be so out of it, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea. Nico was on the other side of her. When the student opened her mouth for her, Minette came alive and thrashed her head from side to side. "Go." the student told Combeferre who stepped out of her sight. He hated to see one student holding her down as she screamed while another pried her mouth open and the third one removed two teeth and a few times he covered his eyes. He was going to have to get used to this but for now he felt terrible.

There was no definition of 'before' and 'after'. Going by just the sound, there was no way to tell when they were finished but for when they sat the little girl up and had her spit into a basin. "Minette..." Nico sat beside her and played with her ponytail. "...you'll feel better." he promised but they could hardly hear him over the noise she was creating.

"She's all yours again, doctor." the students said. They had taken care of the teeth, it was Combeferre's turn to deal with the infection. They left some things to make various poultices with but they left without saying much more and Minette would never know who they were. It was to Combeferre's surprise when he went back over to her that she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, still crying, drooling saliva and blood all over his collar. She wouldn't bleed much, that wasn't anyone's worry but she was still sick from the infection.

"Thank you, Nettie." Combeferre smiled and rubbed her back. "Not making me the bad guy." he packed the poultice bags full. "Here...bite." he stuffed it in her mouth. "Jean Prouvaire will be home when we get there, bet you want to see him." he said and carried the drunken, sick and sore little girl back up the street.

Having the offending teeth out of her mouth there was just the one thing to worry about and now they would take turns holding her and getting her better.

Oddly enough, there began a small 'hum' of gossip around the university campus and Enjolras was surprised one day in the library when a woman, fellow student slid into the seat next to him. Enjolras was handsome and charming and it wasn't a rarity for a woman to be smitten at the site of him. Once she sampled his one-dimensional passion and temper bordering on bitterness, realising that there was nobody, man nor woman who was going to get his attention, though, she turned away. It didn't help that most of the students were upper class and the exact type of people Enjolras wanted people to turn from. "You're Sylvain Enjolras..." she said. "I saw you with a small street boy...someone said you took him away from here."

"I brought him back." Enjolras said, lest he be accused of kidnapping.

"Someone said you were relocating children." she said and he stopped reading and looked at her. Who told her that? Who told anyone? Were they to find homes for the gamin of Sainte Michel? "I want to help." she said, desperately.

"Why?" Enjolras, ever skeptical asked. The reason HE was in it was because he had fallen in love with the children they had, he would have shown the upmost impatience with the others had he not done so. The revolution was still first and foremost...but without meaning to, he had another cause. He looked down and saw her sociology texts. A relatively new course, not much understood by anyone except those with an interest but Enjolras knew it could come in handy. "You know where Cafe Musain is in Sainte Michel?" he asked so she could join the meetings.

"I do..." the woman said. "...do you know where the train station is?" she asked and Enjolras gave her a dry look. Of course he knew. "Ten children for now." she said and held up papers. "There are people in England, my family's friends..." she said.

"Not our kids.." Enjolras firmly said, suddenly worried. He would love to send them farther away than his parents' and Courfeyrac's parents' homes but would they see them again?

"Any kids!" she said. "My name is Emily Copeland, I'm from Devon." she shook his hand. That made sense, she did sound as though French was her second language. "They will pay boat passage..."

"They will stay as children?" Enjolras asked. "Because if they are going to be staff or servants, they can do all of that here."

"They will be raised as their own children she assured. "Only...they have to be healthy. It was the best I could get..." she said quickly, knowing the most disadvantaged were the highest priority in the eyes of the Amis but Enjolras understood.

"They...might have fleas." he shrugged. "It's unavoidable there, we can try to treat them." he said as the cafe was pretty much the only relatively flea-free area in Sainte Michel thanks to Mme Courfeyrac's occasional visits with rosemary, lemon and geranium water. "How did you hear about this?" he asked.

"Georges Grantaire." she said and Enjolras paled. Grantaire was starting to talk? He would have to stop him. "He told me about you, says you are a jerk but get things done."

Enjolras hazarded a rare smile, almost a laugh. Rarely could anyone but the children could make him laugh. "That's...kinder than the things I say about him, believe me." he said and nodded when they said they would meet later. "Come to the cafe with me after school." he told her. "It's best if the others meet you." they agreed. "Emily..." he said as she began to walk away. "Was he perhaps making provisions for a deaf child?" he asked and she nodded.

It was a rare sight, Sylvain Enjolras in his familiar red coat walking side by side with a lovely English woman. It made those who knew him turn and look twice. Odder still was for the woman to see the transformation in him when they got to the cafe when he took the coat of the revolution off and greeted the children.

"Bonjour Frere Sylvain!" Fleur came running at him and kissed him as Nico threw his arms around his waist. Bonjour ma soeur." Fleur greeted the woman. "Je m'apelle Fleur." she introduced herself. Upon hearing another woman's voice, Eponine turned from where she was filling Grantaire's wine glass. She was beautiful, clean, high class...a woman. Eponine was "one-of-the-guys" and when the students would come home, they would see her instead of their buddy, Ponine.

Emily looked in the corner and saw Grantaire. "'Allo Georges." she said and he toasted her silently. She had no idea of his clandestine rituals and he had no idea she would venture into his territory. "Is this her?" she asked as Margurite came up the hallway and sat at the table next to Grantaire with her sign language book, urging him to study with her. "She's lovely." she said. If it weren't for the fact that the age difference wasn't wide enough, she noticed the resemblance with the black curls and often expressionless face and wondered if they weren't kin in some other way. Perhaps it was the other way around and Peep had gone first to him because he reminded her of her father or brother. What Grantaire didn't miss, however was the look Enjolras shot him.

"I don't know what else to do." he shrugged. "I have no one to leave her with." he slurred. No wonder he had been so quiet and drunker than usual. He had resigned himself to the fact that he had to let her go.

"Not her." Combeferre interrupted and motioned to Peep. "We have somewhere for her." he told Emily. Enjolras looked at him and Combeferre shrugged a bit. No, he didn't but wherever he was sending Fleur, he would send Peep.

"Gav, take this one, I'm going to get water." Courfeyrac's voice sounded on the stairway. "Someone help Gavroche with the groceries!" he hollered and took the pail out back, coming up in a few minutes and catching the eye of the English lady, looking away as she did the same. They had met before, perhaps only once, perhaps frequently but some of the Amis bit their lip and held back smiles. Courfeyrac's reputation followed him, everyone knew. "Mademoiselle Emily." he nodded towards her and poured the water into a metal pot to boil over the fire. The children were used to being sent to another room or to play outside as the adults talked, they almost headed there automatically. Fleur went to the kitchen downstairs to help Eponine start supper.

"How will we choose?" Jean Prouvaire asked. "There are hundreds!"

"They have to be orphans, they have to be healthy." Emily said, knowing that would cut it back as the only clean and scab free gamin she had seen was in the cafe.

"The kids will spread the word." Courfeyrac said. "They know who has parents and who doesn't." That sounded absurd to Emily. Of course none of them had parents, parents wouldn't let their children run around like that would they?

The conversation in the upstairs section of the cafe was passionate and bounced from the kids to the revolution, a bit of studying and some levity. Emily looked around at the students. Most of them were familiar faces but she was used to seeing them in their rich schoolboy clothes. She hadn't considered that, after hours they loosened their ties, took off their jackets, kicked back with wine and absinthe and most of all, they all became very young fathers. It was a warm evening but with only one window and the fire blazing to boil water over, it was stifling up there. In winter that was welcome but today, jackets were cast aside, sweat was the word of the day and the steaming pot of soup Eponine was carrying up the stairs only added to it. Emily looked left and right as the children were scampering around, washing their hands and wiping off the table as the students stacked their books on Grantaire's table. "We don't eat like royalty but it's good food." Eponine said as she started to fill bowls with soup while someone else put bread and cheese on the big table.

"Oh, I should really get home." Emily said.

"There's enough." Jean Prouvaire said. They had nowhere to keep leftovers and now that the children were used to the fact that there would be food tomorrow, they didn't eat like it was going to go bad in a moment. Fleur placed a bowl of soup before Emily and one of the Renes gave her some bread.

"Merci." Emily said. "What's your name?" she asked, looking at a rather ill looking Minette. For an answer, Minette ran off and dove under the table. "Is she scared?"

"Shy and still a bit sick." Prouvaire said. "Not usually shy around women though, I think she's just a bit unwell." he told her and took a bowl of soup to Minette's table. "You want to eat under there?" he asked her and the answer was obvious as she didn't move. "Just as well, they need your seat." he grinned and went to get his own food, going back to the little table. "Pardonez moi." he said to Emily and slid under the table with his food. Emily looked around at the others to see if they, too, noticed something a bit strange about that. Jean Prouvaire, lover and poet just slide under an old wooden table to sit on a mattress and spoonfeed a little girl with a sore mouth some soup.

Courfeyrac noticed Emily looking back at the corner table where Grantaire and Margurite sat. "Oh, they stay there. We don't make them but there's no room here and by this time 'Taire is pretty close to immobile."

Emily was very disappointed. While rumpled and messy, Grantaire was NOT the same on campus as he was at the cafe. It wasn't that he was obnoxious or ungentlemanly at the cafe and she couldn't deny that he was very attentive and good with Margurite but she just envisioned someone a bit more between domestic and high-society sitting around sipping cognac. She knew he hung at the cafe, she had a mental image of it being just an extension of the library, she had no idea it was just bustling with activity from sun-up to sundown.

She was from a rich family, just like the students were. Raised with staff to do these things like setting tables and cleaning up. She was used to doing it small scale at the flat that she was living at with another woman but not to this degree. There was water constantly being hauled upstairs and heated over the fireplace. Basins were filled, first to wash the dishes then filled again for children to soak their feet in. The assembly line began.

Margurite sat on a low stool with her feet in the water for a few moments while Courfeyrac sprinkled the "flea water" over her hair and body. They all got the same treatment and now Emily knew the reason that those students didn't smell like the rest of the people on the campus. She would have to learn to make that treatment for their trip. Enjolras wrapped a blanket around Peep and carried her to a chair at Grantaire's table where she put her feet up on Combeferre's lap for her inspection then slipped her shoes back on her feet. Gavroche screamed when Combeferre touched one of his feet. He shouted so loud it woke Grantaire out of his stupor and Combeferre jumped, worried he'd encountered some mystery, invisible spinter. "Just kidding." Gavroche grinned.

"Not funny, Gav." Courfeyrac said. Hearing any child, especially Gavroche scream in pain made his heart skip a beat and his heart didn't like it. As Grantaire got up to stagger to bed, he slapped Gavroche across the back of the head. Emily gasped to see the slap until she saw some of the guys trying to cover smirks.

"Ow!" Gavroche said for real this time, not only at the slap but Combeferre hadn't been amused either and started scraping a callus. All the same, Gavroche couldn't stop giggling. As those guys were treating the children, Jean Prouvaire crawled out from under the table and Minette took her place in line. He and Eponine went and treated blankets and pillows. The evening wore on, candles were lit and the fire burned down, making it a bit cooler up there.

Emily chatted with everyone but mostly she just observed everything. Things like...how Enjolras, always "all-business" sat Nico at a chair with some warmed wine to drink and trimmed his hair while he studied his own stuff AND helped Nico read a book. Courfeyrac sat and read, absently stroking Gavroche's hair as he dozed off and Jean Prouvaire crawling back into Minette's bedroom under the table to tell her a story, as it was too dark under there to read. She would be astounded if she knew the real reason he couldn't go to bed until everyone else had. Margurite sat on Combeferre's lap, facing him but bending backwards while he was pretending to almost drop her until finally he let her down easily until she did a backwards somersault onto the floor and Fleur climbed up for her turn. What Emily noticed was that all of them, while doing all of this stuff were still studying, exchanging notes and writing things while holding onto a kid or playing.

"Can I walk you out of here, Mademoiselle Emily?" Feuilly asked. The Renes were starting to nod off and he had to get them home. They didn't want Emily to walk out of the area unescorted.

"That would be nice, Monsieur, thank you." she said, standing up and wrapping her shawl around her. "Mon Dieu! What is that?" she looked around and everyone laughed that Grantaire's snoring startled her. Still amazed by the way the cafe ran like a household, she watched the children...these street gamin...clean and flea-free go from student to student for good night kisses. Courfeyrac picked up Gavroche who had fallen asleep and carried him to his room.

Enjolras went in and flipped Grantaire onto his side, waving Peep to climb into the bed to keep him from rolling onto his back again. "Good night." he said, kissing the little girl. She pointed to Grantaire. "Uhhh, no, you kiss him." Enjolras said. By then the children were being herded to bed and as Enjolras came back into the common room, when Courfeyrac walked by with Gavroche, Enjolras kissed the sleeping boy then flopped down into a chair at the table, giving a tired sigh.

"God I hope we can run the train this smoothly!" Emily said. "It's only overnight for us and then another day of sea travel...you do this every day!" she looked around at the now-quiet common room. "Does it ever end?" she asked as there was just one more bit of drama from under the table.

"Basin! Basin!" Jean Prouvaire shouted and someone ran for it so he could catch the soup that Minette hadn't been able to hold down. "Oooh Nettie." he said after she was done and handed the basin back to Eponine who took it outside to empty then brought the night pail in and handed the basin back under the table just in case. Prouvaire curled up on the little mattress under the table and she tucked herself into the hollow his body made. "Go to sleep." he whispered and stroked her silken hair.

After bidding everyone good night and vowing to keep in touch, Emily went down the stairs ahead of Feuilly and the boys. Outdoors was different from when she had gone in there. While she couldn't see the filth anymore, she could smell it and the homeless were curled up in doorways and beside the road. In the dark, people gave no regard as to where they eliminated their wastes or sought amour from the ladies of the night. It was so commonplace that Emily noticed neither of the boys really paid attention to it, just chatted to each other. Feuilly held out his arm, encouraging her to take it so everyone would know that she wasn't just a woman walking alone. "What is it that keeps you coming here?" she asked him, as he didn't live at the cafe.

"The cause, Mademoiselle." Feuilly said.

"Where are the children now?" she looked around.

"They're around." Feuilly said. "You keep coming here, you'll get some." he held up his hand that was closed around one of the Renes. "I just got lucky." he grinned. "Oh come on!" he said as one Rene decided he was tired and wanted a piggyback. "Not long." he told him. When they got to their flat, he stopped while the boy climbed down. "I'm going to walk Mademoiselle Emily home, you guys go to bed." he told them and let them in the house then continued on until he got to the dorm on the university she was staying in and she let go of his arm. "As you see, it take a lot of work, I hope you have ten people to travel with you."

"Only two...but I'm up for it." Emily said. "Good night Monsieur Feuilly." she said and disappeared through the door.


	13. Farewell Children

Grantaire became a regular face at his father's law agency. While the staff there were getting comfortable that they still had jobs as long as the place was drawing in money, they weren't used to the presence of a man that they'd had a hard time remembering even existed. He also became a regular face at the wine shop between the school and the law agency. Every other day he would stop in there as he went to the office from school for a few hours.

Adoption papers were forged and filed, it was set. Feuilly and the boys lived far enough away that it wouldn't affect them. Feuilly had a student stay with the boys while he was at the cafe. Nico and Minette would go with the Enjolrases, Gavroche would go to the deCourfeyracs while Fleur and Peep would be in the rented flat with Combeferre's sister, Danielle. It was going to be a bitter day when they had to say farewell to them but they had to empty the cafe so that they could be a safe house for a few days for the children who would be setting out on the train.

It was hard, at first to convince Eponine to go as an aid on the train but they wanted her out of there just as desperately as they wanted the children out of there. If it weren't for the excitement of the train and ship, she probably would have argued a bit more but she knew Gavroche would be safe and getting away from her parents sounded heavenly. Did she want to leave Paris for good? Maybe. Even if this became just the first of many transportations, going as an escort and getting away for a month at a time wasn't bad deal. She would be farther away from home than she ever thought she would get. She only had one reason to stay and Pontmercy made it clear that it wouldn't happen so what the hell? He had only decided a few days before that he was going to stand at the barricade with his friends rather than cower back in his fancy digs when the going got tough. Thanks, Pontmercy, you pussy...now that the work's all done you'll stand by your "brothers" as if you had anything to do with it while really you were just meowing like a tomcat through a wrought iron fence while the REAL forces behind the revolution worked their asses off. While her lustful heart was only for Marius, as she thought of all Les Amis, she couldn't decide who she admired most.

The night before the evacuation, Combeferre talked to Fleur in their room and explained they would be taking her and Margurite to be with Danielle.

"And you?" she asked him, her brow furrowing when he told her he would be staying there. "Will I see you again?" she teared up.

"If I get to set the rules then yes." he kissed her and held her while she cried, sparing some of his own tears to dampen her raven hair. "Fleur..." he pulled her away from him and looked at her. "You are my sunshine...I love you so much." he told her. "You can cry all you want tonight but tomorrow I need you to stay calm so Peep suspects nothing. We can't say goodbye at the house." he told her and held her until she was asleep. He didn't feel like joining the rest of them out in the common room. They were all going through miseries of their own. Especially Grantaire. Margurite was probably the only thing in this world he truly loved. While it was certain where she was going and that she was going to be safe there was no way she was going to understand and there was certainly no way they could promise her that he would be back to get her after it was all over. He had stayed incredibly drunk the past few days, at one point lying unconscious in his bed while Margurite tried to wake him by shaking him. They had to tell her that he was sick in order for her to leave him alone. The next time he was awake he WAS sick...so it looked like it wasn't totally a lie.

"Grantaire, you will do nobody ANY good if you keep on like that!" Enjolras told him. He knew it was true and he would cut down, go back to his same old usually-tipsy-but-drunk-by-night's-end self.

Now, as Combeferre lay in his bed, hoping that a June breeze would come through his open bedroom window, he stroked Fleur's hair as she slept against his chest. He heard, down in the yard the sound of Grantaire throwing up in the backhouse. It was just destroying him. Suddenly, he realised he heard Grantaire's snoring down the hall...so he got out of bed and went out to the common room. There was still a bit of water in the jug so he poured a cup of it for whoever it was who was going to be coming in and sprinkled a bit of sugar in it.

The blonde curls were the first thing he saw in the moonlight that was coming through the only window in the common room. "Okay, Enjolras?" he asked, holding the chair out for him to sit down, grabbing a coat off of the back of another chair and draping it over his shoulders. It was a hot night but Enjolras was shivering and he sipped on the water.

"What was I thinking?" he asked and put his head in his hands.

"Having doubts?" Combeferre asked.

"Once they're gone I'm sure it'll be okay...handing them over is the hard part, right?" Enjolras asked.

"This is about the children?" the doctor asked him. "I thought it was about the barricade." he grinned. "They're going to be fine, Enj. It's only five of them, I know but the first of the train kids leave in a few days, there's no telling how many we're going to get out of here before all hell breaks loose." he said. "You're not going to save all of them, Enj." he said and rubbed his hair.

"Let's go, Peep." Grantaire held his hand out to her. She liked it when he took her places and didn't have his books. That meant a walk in the park, a carriage ride or sweet pastry...or any combination of all of them. He had taken her clothes to Combeferre's flat a few days prior. Peep was smart, she would suspect if she saw a carpet bag or trunk. She held his hand as they walked far enough away to get a carriage...happily noticing that Combeferre and Fleur were joining them, all the while Grantaire dreaded the next few hours.

"Oh Georges!" Danielle said when she saw thee little girl "Mon Dieu...are you sure..."

"She's not mine!" Grantaire was getting used to that. "Do the math." he said. Danielle had met Fleur before. "Take her to the garden." Grantaire told her. "Hey." he said, pulling the little girl back for a second and giving her a kiss, signing "love". They sat at the kitchen table as Combeferre and (occasionally) Grantaire brushed Danielle up on the signs and left the book there, too. Grantaire kept looking out the back window, seeing Fleur keeping Margurite busy.

Could he walk away? He could! There was no reason for him to stay at the barricade. Nobody forced him. He could take Margurite to the house that was technically his and the staff just waited for him to move in and give orders like his father did. Far away from the slums, they would be untouched by the chaos. Never! He could not leave his friends. But could he leave her? Finally, Combeferre was seeing that it wasn't doing either of them any good to stay any longer. They were almost out the door when Margurite came running back in to show them a ladybird she had found. Before Fleur could round her up, she saw Grantaire halfway out the door and shrieked one of the few words she said perfectly. "Noooooooo!"

"Shit!" Grantaire said, leaning on the doorway.

"Just keep going, 'Taire." Combeferre said but neither could walk away because Fleur was angry at herself for allowing this to happen and she was taking it bad. "Cheri, it's okay." he said as she apologised. He picked her up. At least they'd be able to have a last farewell while Grantaire tried to settle Margurite down.

_"I thought I was staying with you forever..." Peep wished she could voice. "Don't go! Don't leave me! What did I do wrong? I was a good girl!"_ she thought but it only came out as a series of various sounds and her best job at saying "Tsaih!" over and over again as she begged him to stay with her. She could hear his voice, feel it, feel him holding her, smell the sweetness of absinthe and the residue of 'flea water' in his hair. She clenched her arms around his neck. She could feel Combeferre try to pull her away and she held on as best she could but eventually she lost her grip. She kicked a bit and took a swing in anger, catching Grantaire on the side of the head, screaming.

"Just go, 'Taire.." Combeferre said, holding the little girl and trying to keep her from kicking, knowing this was ripping Grantaire up inside.

"Frere Georges..." Fleur followed him as he was walking up the front path towards the street. She threw her arms around his waist. "...I'll take care of her." she promised, a bit alarmed by his tears but it was just an emotional time all around. Grantaire nodded, unable to speak, just hearing the sound of the little girl's protests. He would have run if he didn't have to wait for Combeferre, who finally joined him on the walk back home.

"You want to stop for awhile?" Combeferre asked as they cut through the university campus gardens. Grantaire shook his head, just wanting to get home and feel nothing again. As they climbed up the stairs, everyone looked at them as though they had just come back from having a precious pet put to sleep.

"You okay, 'Taire?" Enjolras asked him as he walked by him. He went to rub his back but Grantaire just collapsed into his arms, sobbing. That didn't help Enjolras much, as he had spent the afternoon with Prouvaire and the children before dropping them off at his parents' place.

By this time, all of the children were aware of what was going on so none of the others were going to be as dramatic as Margurite. The rest of them could understand that they would probably not be there forever...but they were probably not as prepared that it was a possibility as they might have been.

Jean Prouvaire had met the Enjolrases already when they talked about leaving Minette out there. He trusted Enjolras' judgment but wanted to see for himself just where he was leaving his little fairy girl. The last story he told her of Belle Fee was not the end but a resting point and it would be continued when they saw each other again. Minette hadn't seen the house before so Nico led her upstairs to his bedroom, which had been Enjolras' bedroom. It was huge, bigger than the whole upstairs of the cafe and it had its own fireplace and a deep rug in front of it for after the bath. There was another smaller room for Minette but she would probably sleep with Nico.

"Hey, this is nice!" Jean Prouvaire said as he inspected her room. There had been no girl's things but it didn't take long for Mme Enjolras to stock up on toys and clothes and just about everything a little girl would want. "Don't you think?" he asked Minette who was quiet but nodded. "Nettie...it's just for awhile and Nico will be with you."

"You will come back to me?" she asked.

"If it's in my power, yes." he said. They all agreed they weren't going to make any kind of promises to them. "Hey...you're my best friend, right?" he smiled. "I want you to have these..." he stacked a few poetry books beside the bed. "...when you get lonely, you read some of these, they're our favourites, right?" he said. She knew what pages they were on and she recited them without reading them but having the books and the pages to turn would help. Nobody, however would have the pages of La Belle Fee. She climbed into his arms for a final cry and hug then lay down on the bed, curling up, looking so small. "You want to come down and see me off or just stay up here?" he asked, stroking her golden hair and she shook her head. "Okay." he smiled and kissed her. "Two things you have to remember, right?"

"I'm beautiful and you love me." she said quietly.

"Right." Prouvaire said. "I love you very much, Nettie." he said.

Enjolras had his own moment with Nico. "You need to look after your sister, she's small..." he said, stroking Nico's golden curls. "Papa will look after you, you look after Minette right?" he said.

"Are you going to kill the bad guys?" Nico asked.

"There are no 'bad guys' and 'good guys' in there, Nico." Enjolras lied. "There are just people with different ideas. We don't want to kill them any more than they want to kill us, we just both want to be heard and we're too busy shouting to hear each other." he tried to talk in bullshit so that Nico didn't catch on to the disdain Enjolras felt for king and his supporters.

"Are they going to kill you?" Nico asked.

"Not if I can help it." Enjolras said, lazing on his bed beside Nico.

"I saw the guns." Nico told him. "I saw Courfeyrac carrying them up the stairs yesterday and I know why they were melting the metal...and sewing the flag."

Enjolras took a deep breath in and blew it out slowly. "It's coming, to be sure, Nico." he nodded. "That's why we wanted you out of there."

Out of there. Nico's eyes wandered off into the oblivion as he thought of life at the cafe. They were so enjoyable that he almost forgot about life BEFORE the cafe. Not with his parents, he would always remember that but in between those times. From the time he knew they would not be seeing his parents again until the moment they ran into the cafe for safety. The cafe was such a haven. The warmth on cold nights, the laughter on hot nights when they were all sweaty and too hot to sleep and they just took turns throwing water at each other...hey, it washed the floor at the same time! He thought about the stupid little pageants he and the other kids would do to entertain the students when they got too serious. Sure, he was safe at this new place but would the fun or sweetness ever come back? He lay back on the bed and leaned his head on Enjolras' shoulder. "Thank you." he said simply. "I think you saved our lives." he stretched and kissed Enjolras' cheek. "I wish you could promise you'll come back."

Neither Enjolras or Prouvaire wanted to eat anything when they were called to supper but they wanted to see the children so they both just picked at their food and made small talk. Prouvaire was enjoying seeing the relationship that the children were going to be getting from their foster parents. While he was happy that Minette was going to be with her brother and Enjolras' parents, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of parents raised someone to be rather...emotionless and hard-assed. Surely they must have been just as hard-assed. Well, he was right there but what he didn't know was how much Enjolras' father had changed. They retired to the parlour after supper, sipping brandy and talking while the children had their baths. When they came to the parlour in their night clothes to say good-night, Mme Enjolras followed them. She had been up there giving them their bath and getting them into nightwear.

"Okay..." Enjolras said as the children grew sleepy. He picked Nico up and Prouvaire did the same with Minette and they tucked them both into Enjolras' old bed. "Behave!" he told them and kissed them as Prouvaire did the same.

They walked half way back to the cafe in silence before they thought about even hailing a carriage. The cafe was going to seem so lonely and dark.

Courfeyrac and Gavroche were due to arrive at the house in time for lunch - a delightful spread on the veranda. In the carriage, they had discussed a dozen times why he couldn't stay at the cafe.

"Well...why can't I go back to the elephant then?" Gavroche asked.

"Because..." Courfeyrac said. "...because...I love you and I don't want you to do that. I want you out here, safe."

"I can help you!" Gavroche said.

"Gav...hold out your hand." Courfeyrac said and put his next to Gavroche. "You are a great help but all of that aside...look." he showed the difference between the sizes of their hands. "This is why, Gavroche." Courfeyrac said, holding his hand. "I know you're streetsmart and I know you're just as passionate about this...and you have every right to be but you need to let us handle this. It could end very...badly."

"I know." Gavroche said, tears starting down his face. "And if it ends badly for you, I don't want to live."

"Oh, Souris..." He hugged him and picked him up to lift him down from the carriage. "I don't want to hear that. If it goes badly for us, we're counting on you to get done what we couldn't. Only not right now." he carried him to the house as Gavroche wept on his shoulder. "Remember what Enjolras said about rising to take our place?"

"I want to go back to the cafe. I want it like before." he said.

"I know, Souris but this is what we've been working for. This is what the evenings in the cafe were all about. Please don't be awkward now, Gav." he said and rubbed the back of his head as he approached the house.

"'Allo Monsieur Francoise." Ayisha said as she opened the door for them. Courfeyrac smiled at her and sadly shifted his eyes towards the little boy he carried. "'Allo, Gavroche." she said gently. "Welcome home." she stroked his back as Courfeyrac walked through the door.

"Bonjour, Papa." he said when the doctor came into the great room.

"Gavroche." M. deCourfeyrac said, gently but firmly. "You need to greet people when you come into a room, even if you're carried in backwards." he explained the first point of etiquette he would learn there.

"Bonjour...Papa." Gavroche lifted his head off Courfeyrac's shoulder and looked at him with his red puffy eyes. It wasn't like he was forced to stay somewhere awful. The deCourfeyrac's house was plush, they would be good to him, they already were and the sketchy beginnings Gavroche had were so far behind him that he knew, no matter what the outcome, he would not being going back to the slums. The doctor didn't smile much but when he did, he had the same beady brown eyes that his son did. It was obvious that, while this wasn't his idea, he had no plan in disappointing anyone. Gavroche leaned and kissed the doctor's cheeks. "I just don't feel well today." he explained then looked when he saw Mme deCourfeyrac come into the room. "Bonjour Mama." he snivelled but it was hard to not smile when Mme deCourfeyrac came into a room. She was in a rich cranberry dress, her jet black hair was swept back in a bun. If Gavroche didn't know her well enough, he would be intimidated and assume she was going to swat him aside like a cockroach but he knew she was kind and affectionate.

Courfeyrac's arms grew tired and he put Gavroche down on the floor and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"We have your room ready and Ayisha has a lunch ready on the veranda." she said.

"I'm not hungry." Gavroche said.

"You will eat a little bit." the doctor said. He had a way of making a person change their mind - he could have joined the circus as a hoakey magician kind of thing. Courfeyrac grinned when he recognised the tone and gentle "insistence" that he had forgotten about. Yes, his father was a poser but he was a pretty nice guy and while leaving Gavroche in a few hours was going to be hell, at least he wouldn't have to worry. As he ate, he wondered how the others made out, it was going to be depressing at the cafe. He thought, anyhow. Little did he know it was already full of children getting ready for the train trip.

He stayed the rest of the day at the house, stretching the minutes out but all too soon he was tucking Gavroche into the big bed in his old room.

"Are these the same pillows you used?" Gavroche asked.

"Probably." Courfeyrac said. It had only been 5 years since he left the house, why would his mother replace good down pillows?

"Good." Gavroche wrapped his arms around one and held it to his face. Maybe Courfeyrac would do the same back at the cafe.

"I'm going to miss you." Courfeyrac said and stroked his hair. Strange to smell soap on him and not the flea juice. He realised that the next time he saw him, the flea bites an his hands and face wouldn't be there. "So much." he kissed him. "If it's in my power, I say I'll come get you as soon as I can." As he started out of the room, Gavroche called one last time. "Let me go, Gavroche." he whispered.

"Tell Combeferre thank you for fixing my foot all that time ago." he said, for that was what started the whole process. All that time ago...it hadn't even been a year.

"I will, Gav." he smiled but didn't turn around to show his tears.

"I love you." Gavroche said.

"I love you, too, Souris...stop making this harder." he said and left the room.

Gavroche lay awake and cried for awhile. Now if he got scared or just needed to be held, there was nobody. He held Courfeyrac's pillow in his arms and prayed this wasn't all he was going to be left with in the end.

"Go now." Mme Courfeyrac said at the door. "It won't be any easier the longer you stay. Unless you stay here for good." she made it clear that was an option.

"I can't stay, Mama." he said. "We've worked so hard."

"As long as what you believe is right for you." his father said and held him. "I just fear this is the last time we will see each other."

"Don't talk like that, Papa." he said, though he knew that it was almost certainty he would not be coming back. "Only God knows."

"Maybe I know, too." M Courfeyrac's eye dropped a single tear out of the corner.

"Don't say that around Gavroche." Courfeyrac said as he heard the carriage drawing near.

"Like Mama said, it won't be any easier the longer you stay." his father, the doctor said.

When Courfeyrac got back to the slums, he wondered if he was going to be the first one back. Before he had time for a second thought, he was pelted with rotting vegetation and mud off of the streets. "You have our children in there!" someone shouted in the darkness.

"If any of these children are yours, come and get them!" Enjolras' voice sounded in the doorway. That was always the deal there. He wouldn't keep a child from a parent who wanted them back but nobody ever did. He stepped aside for Courfeyrac to get inside from the barrage of stink and insults.

If the acronym "WTF" had existed back then, it would have been the word of the day as each student returned. Grantaire had thrown a few things back at them until Feuilly hauled him indoors. Why did these people care about the kids ow when they spent days shooing them away or kicked at them? Upstairs was busier than usual with twice as many children and a few more adults. Courfeyrac hauled the bottle of flea juice out of his bag to sprinkle on the children after they got dressed. They would have to leave the cafe in the middle of the night, after the protesters had gone to sleep. It was a different feel than with their children. Some were upset and didn't settle all evening and none of the men got their own beds. Conspicuous by his absence Grantaire had shut himself in his room with a bottle of absinthe and a basin, fully intending on just drinking himself sick.

There was another buzz in the air, however and that was the death of General Lamarque. "What does that mean?" one boy asked Enjolras, who was covering him with flea juice before sending him to Combeferre for a final once-over. Enjolras' mind was moving a mile a minute and all of the students' eye contacts meant something.

"It means things are probably going to get a lot worse before they get better." Enjolras said..

"Does that mean we can't go to England?" a little girl asked Courfeyrac.

"Oh no, you're going alright." he said, a bit sorry that he couldn't save her back to send to his parents like his mother wanted. He should look for one who matched Gavroche, just in case he needed a sister permanently instead of just for a little while.

That night, as the children slept in every bed, the men sat up around the table, finalising what was going to be happening in a few days when they paraded the General's corpse through the streets.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac jumped to their feet when they heard someone coming in the door and up the stairs. They barely recognised Eponine in her new traveling clothes. She even had pretty combs in her hair...she looked like the young lady she was, not like some kind of kitchen wench. Behind her was Emily and a few other women. The students would walk them to the outskirts of the slums where they would meet with the male escorts to the train station. They began to wake up the children and put night wraps on them. It was a warm evening but the wraps had to do them for the train and boat rides.

Eponine looked around the cafe, hearing ghosts of the fun and the fights that had gone on there. Would she ever see it again? Would she ever see her friends again? Suddenly, she wanted to stay until the bitter end. "You ready to go?" Enjolras asked her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I guess." she said, leaning into him as he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm scared for you guys." she whispered and wiped some tears before she gave him a hug. He rubbed her back and hugged her. She took a deep breath and looked around, needing to say a good-bye every bit as sincere to the other guys as well so while they got the kids together, Eponine went around the room, giving everyone hugs and kisses. "Where's Grantaire?" she looked around.

"You won't wake him now." Enjolras said. "Leave him be, he's not going to do anyone any good if we wake him." he waved off. Eponine went in there and braved the snoring to give him a kiss to the forehead and tuck the blankets back around him. When she came out, she ran smack into Courfeyrac.

"You..." she said and kissed his cheeks, crying as she hugged him "...saved my little brother from God knows what." she stood in his arms for awhile. "Thank you, thank you, thank you..." she said, kissing his chest and finally sobbing. "I want to stay here with you guys and join the fight but I need to do this...but I'm scared I won't see you again." she argued with herself.

"'Ponine." Courfeyrac held her for awhile. "If this goes horribly wrong, go to my parents. Gavroche is safe there and I know you'll be welcome there." he said and she nodded, unable to speak anymore.

"Okay..." Emily said to the children. "...we're going to be very quiet as we're walking until we're at the train station." she said and Enjolras took one child's hand in his right hand and another in his left as the others did the same. He knew he wasn't the only one, in feeling a child's hand in his made him think of the little boy who was probably sleeping peacefully (or not) in his old bed. So, it wasn't hard to walk quietly, only keeping an eye out for anyone meaning them harm.

It must have been hard for the paupers in the area. All this time, they had friends in the students. They supported the rich boys as they walked to and from their day at university. The guys were never afraid of them. The only ones who had to take care were the women. Whoever put the attitude in that they were 'stealing' children, nobody knew but it turned the students into the bad guys for a day. At LaMarque's funeral, they might redeem themselves but they had a lot of work to do.

It wasn't as hard to say goodbye to the children when they delivered them to the escorts. They still wished them well and sent them off with kisses but there hadn't even been time to learn their names. Had this been any other time, there would be another ten kids arriving at the cafe in a few days and they would do this all again but they decided to hold off until after the funeral. The cafe was going to be turned into an armory of sorts and they didn't want children around there. It would be small scale but the Cafe Musain and its inhabitants were going to war.

**A/N - thank you everyone for your reviews, messages and favourites. I'm glad everyone is enjoying this. One thing I'm going to do is skip over everything the evening before and day of the funeral because I can't do it/explain it any better than in the show. Next chapter will be after it's all over.**


	14. Recovery - Part 1

**A/N - had to change this up a bit to make it flow better. Flashback scenes are in italics.**

_After the battle, Combeferre held Courfeyrac in his arms as they watched from behind some rubble. Both were injured, Combeferre seriously so but his concentration now was on keeping Courfeyrac quiet after they saw Enjolras shot in the back, followed by Grantaire shot in the stomach. "Quiet." he chanced a whisper into the side of Courfeyrac's head while he kept his hand over his mouth. He could see his own blood dripping over his shoulder and down his arm. He felt the pain in the side of his head and his ear was buzzing. He had no idea what was keeping him from passing out but it was probably that he felt like he and Courfeyrac were the only two still alive. _

_Courfeyrac knew the importance of staying quiet. They were well-hidden, maybe their legs were sticking out but the National Guard wasn't interested in hunting, just foiling the plan, blowing up the barricade and...they got the leader, crumpled at the foot of the barricade, as far as they were concerned, the deed was done. As far as the National Guard was concerned, it would take months, maybe a year for them to regroup, find another leader build their movement again...and they would foil it again. Both of the students held their breath in their hiding place as they heard the footsteps of the soldiers inspecting the site and eventually leaving the area. The next footsteps they heard was the scavengers. By then Combeferre was too injured to move anywhere. Courfeyrac rolled him onto his side and placed some rolled up clothing under his head...noticing the holes in the side of his head. He wouldn't be alive when he got back, Courfeyrac was sure of that. When he stood up, the side of his leg burned and he folded to the ground. At least the motion from him made the scavengers take note and not loot the bodies that were lying around. "Don't leave, please..." he panted. "...we need help." he pleaded. He dropped the name of a few of the merchants in the area. "Someone with a cart, we need to get people out of here." he said and heard some familiar voices. "Get OUT of here!" he said when he saw the Renes running to him. "It's still not safe." he gathered them up in his arms. "Where's Feuilly?" he asked, looking around. "Why did you leave your house?" he asked. They had left because they heard news of deaths down there. The boys would have been safe there but they came running. Courfeyrac didn't want them stumbling across the body of their big brother. _

_"Boys...go back." Feuilly wheezed as he came from behind a doorway. "No, don't come near..." he tried to hold them back but they charged him and knocked him off his feet. He lay back into a pool of his own blood. "...oh my God..." he cried. "...I don't want you to see this." he said. One of the Renes was crying, the other trying to wipe the blood off of Feuilly's face. _

_"Roll him on his side, Rene." Courfeyrac told him from where he sat. If Feuilly was going to survive this, he needed to be on his side to let the blood drain. "Come over here, both of you." he called to them. Only one came over, the other lay with his head on Feuilly's body. _

_"Rene...cheri..." Courfeyrac tried to get him over but talked to the one who was with him. "Combeferre is there, very hurt. Take this." he handed him someone's jacket. "Cover him then come back to me." he said. Although it felt like his leg was on fire, he pulled his way over to Grantaire who lay curled up on his side, his green waistcoat was a deep red in the front. "Oh 'Taire." Courfeyrac cried in a whisper and reached out to stroke his hair. "Oh my God..." he cried. "...look at me." he grabbed his hand and kissed it and managed a bit of a smile. "Georges...someone is coming for you." he promised and kept his hand on Grantaire's chest that he could feel weakly rising and falling. _

Grantaire felt the cool cloth press on his cheeks and then on his neck and chest. How long had he lay there for? What was the last thing he remembered? He was used to fading in and out of awareness, used to having no concept of time but this was totally unlike the last place he remembered being. Was he dead? Maybe he died...but if he were dead, why couldn't he see? What was this pressure on his eyes that made it impossible for him to see. Why was his body on fire and everything aching?

The shriek Enjolras gave off when he got shot in the back echoed in Grantaire's ears. He would never forget that sound. Did he get shot, too? Did he remember getting shot? Yes, now he remembered...in the stomach. He reached and felt the bandage. He couldn't be dead, he wouldn't be feeling anything, would he? Shit! Why couldn't he see anything?

He was in a hospital...he remembered that now. He had never been in one before so he didn't know what they looked and smelled like until he went to visit his father. He didn't realise how noisy they were when you were a patient. He wanted the people to shut up, he wanted the nuns to just leave him alone. He didn't need to pee in bottles, if they would just let him get out of bed.

"Georges." a voice said and he jumped. Oh yes, the cool pressing on his upper body, he remembered now and loved the feeling every time it touched his skin and cooled the mysterious burning. "You're awake?" the voice asked gently. "You've been very sick for a long time."

"How..." Grantaire started to say until he felt how dry his throat was and could only mouth the word for a moment. "...how long?" he rasped.

"About ten days." she said. She put aside the cloth she had been bathing him with and soaked another cloth. "Don't touch..." she held his hand away from the covering over his eyes.

"Blind?" Grantaire asked.

"No but leave this on. You contracted measles somewhere, you can't have light to your eyes for a little while more.

"Oh thank God." Grantaire whispered, all questions answered. "Measles?" he asked in his head and would have laughed at the stupidity of all of it if he hadn't felt so miserable.

"Here..." she brought the clean cloth to his mouth and wrung it out on his lips. Hungrily he sucked the water off, anxious for another mouthful. "That's good." he could tell she was pleased. "Rest." she said, stroking his hair. He had so many other questions but that little bit of conversation tired him out and he dozed off again.

It was just as well he didn't remember anything about the last two months. He remembered passing out in the wine shop. The noise of the guns and cannons startled him and halfway sobered him up. Until that moment, he hadn't a clue what he was going to do when everything broke out but in a split second he realised that his best friends were going to get their asses kicked. Thank God there had been time to get the children out of there. One of the things that had kept him incredibly drunk was the memory of leaving Margurite with Combeferre's sister Danielle. He didn't know if he'd see her again and didn't know how to explain what was going on. He should have just stayed there, for all the good he was going to do at the barricade. Stumbling out of the wine shop, his vision cleared in time to see wood, feathers, blood and body parts flying all over the place but worst of all was seeing his strong captain getting shot in the back and hearing his scream. He couldn't leave him there, he had to get him at least tucked away so his parents would have something to bury. How did he figure his drunken stagger was going to make him a difficult target for the National Guard?

He heard Courfeyrac shout "Grantaire you fool!" and felt the searing heat going into his stomach.

What he would have no recollection of would be the illness that set in. First was the illness itself, accompanied by the withdrawal. Those around him, trying to nurse him were all witness to the fits and seizures that racked the man's body and mind. They sat through delirium and vomiting, not sure how long this one would last or how long until the next. Then came infection. They drained and bled him as much as they could, the fever was high and they had all but written him off as dead or at least dying.

After that, the ward was quarantined as someone had brought in measles. If the infection hadn't killed him, for certain the measles did and the patients were carried out daily. They couldn't believe that he was pulling through that in the wake of everything else that happened.

But there was one who sat with him more often than the rest. She was the one who sponged him with cold water and talked to him as though he were awake. In spite of the fact that there was nothing wrong with his feet, she listened to his story of the pain and kept them cool. She kept his lips moistened with glycerin so that they didn't dry out. She kept his eyes covered so the light couldn't damage them. They were such a clear blue, she saw them the few times he pulled the cloth off, she couldn't bear the thought that they would get so damaged that they wouldn't work.

"Sister..." he whispered when he woke up the next time, again to feeling the cool compresses against his skin. The measles were finished but the hospital did nothing to keep him from scratching until now he had chamois gloves on his hands. "...water, please." he said and waited for the cloth to be held to his mouth again. "Merci." he whispered. "Where am I?" he asked

"You're in our home, Georges. You are a friend of my son." she said gently, continuing to talk to him to distract him from the fact that she was holding the bottle for him to relieve himself into then giving him a full body bedbath.

"How did I get here?" he asked.

"Oh, you walked from the carriage with a bit of help. They wouldn't let you leave the hospital until you had somewhere to go." she smiled. It took forever to get him to the house. They had to keep him out of sunlight so they brought him home in the darkness but it was the only move he would have to make. Being as they were well out of the watch of the hospital, two men actually carried him in and up to bed.

"How many?" he asked. "How many died?" he could feel the tears. "Enjolras...he got shot in the back, that was the only one I saw...I was so useless..."

"...yes, you were often the source of a lot of frustration in all of them." the lady said gently, drying his legs off and covering them back up with the sheet. She said, her voice quivering and shakey.

"I tried to get to him." Grantaire cried and felt the bandages on his stomach again. "Why him? Not me?" he asked.

"Well, you both got shot, Georges." she said.

"I'm sorry..." he cried and she wiped his face and nose with a cloth. She had such a caring hand, always caressing his arms and face, stroking his hair and even wrapping cloth around her fingers to clean his teeth with. He had no idea whose mother she was but obviously one of his fallen comrades. She shushed him and finished off his bath, pressing clay powder onto the rash to soothe it. "...I'll never forget the sight or sound of him being shot."

"Georges..." she put the cloth down and sat on the side of the bed, helping him sit up and holding him in her arms. "...my Sylvain..." she said.

"Oh my God...you're his mother?" Grantaire cried.

"Oui." she said. "My name is Josette." she stroked his hair and made sure the cloth stayed over his eyes. "He is sleeping now too. I will get him in here when he wakes."

"He's alive?" Grantaire asked.

"Oh yes!" she said. "I'm sorry...I should have said he was okay right from the start." she cursed her own carelessness. "He is learning to walk again, he will walk. The children are here with him..." she said and the fact that she mentioned both children being there made him wonder about Jehan Prouvaire.

"Jehan?" Grantaire asked. "Not home yet?" he hoped that's all it was.

"He won't be home" Mme Enjolras despaired. Her son had told her that Jehan Prouvaire had been first to get shot. They got him right in the head, he dropped instantly without even a moment to cry out.

"Oh my God." he whispered, thinking about Minette. It had taken her so long to talk to anyone, then she got attached to Prouvaire and he turned her into their little fairy girl. She had been in to visit Enjolras a few times and just curled up beside him as he stroked her hair but they wouldn't take her in to see Grantaire. She had already lost her mother to a fever, it would do her no good to see someone else so ill. He was scared to ask but finally ran out of other things to ask about. "Margurite..."

"There's...a problem." Josette said and Grantaire's hand flew to his mouth. No! Not a problem! He didn't want a problem, he wanted his kid back. HIS kid? YES! Finally he admitted it. Not that he was her father but she was, undoubtedly his now. She was all he had left. He didn't think of it that way until he was in recovery in the hospital. She was what was keeping him from just lying there and dying. He was going to throw up. Don't throw up on the nice lady. He had worked so hard to keep Margurite safe, keep her from being absorbed into the legal system or the church. He looked until he couldn't look anymore before finding somewhere to keep her..what happened? Josette placed the basin in front of him. She and held a cool cloth to the back of his neck while he threw up the water he had just drunk and his stomach felt like it was going to burst open again. Josette didn't realise that it was the shock and stress that was doing this. She had sat through withdrawal, it had the same symptoms. After the heaving stopped, she sat on the bed and put her arms around him, pulling him to her. "It's okay." she said to him and shushed him. He felt the coolness of the linen apron she wore over her better clothes for when she was taking care of him. "It's just that...it's going to be very hard to get her away from Madame deCourfeyrac." she said gently. "She wouldn't settle at the house you had left her at. The girl...someone's sister?" she asked for clarification "...she couldn't take it so they moved her. Mme deCourfeyrac has grown so fond of her, oh and you should see how pretty she dresses her. She has started her with teachers who will teach her to speak with her hands." she said.

"A mother." Grantaire whispered trying to smile now that he knew there was a different cause for worry but not as desperate. How could he expect to claim her back now? At least if she was with the deCourfeyracs, she would not only want for nothing but he would be able to see her. Oh my God, though he was going to miss her little face, her smile, the silent giggles she gave when she was trying to share a joke. He couldn't wait to see her. "Is she happy?" he asked.

"Yes." Josette said. "She misses you, asks about you..."

"How do you know?" he asked then remembered - Enjolras was alive, he could tell them the words and how Margurite pronounced them. "Did he even tell you about her nickname?"

"Peep?" she asked and he smiled. Josette lay him back down and wiped his face, pressing more calamine into his rashes "...she knows she can only borrow her, though. It would be different if worst had happened but when she sees you, I doubt she'll want anyone else."

"I guess I'll have to learn to tie a ribbon then." Grantaire said before falling back to sleep.


	15. Recovery - Part 2

_Courfeyrac leaned his back against some rubble, not daring to look to the other side of him where Enjolras lay. Rene came back, saying that Combeferre had told him to be careful...that was good news, he was still alive. "Rene, just come here with me." he held his arm out but Rene took another jacket and went over to Enjolras. "Rene...come back." he said, not wanting him to see any more death than he had already seen. Rene bent down and brushed some dirt of Enjolras' face then appeared to be praying. _

_"Courfeyrac and Combeferre." he said when Enjolras weakly asked who was left._

_"Enj?" Courfeyrac asked from across the way. "You're alive?"_

_"I can't move." he said._

_"Help is coming, Rene, go see if you can see them." Courfeyrac told him as he heard the other Rene start crying hysterically. "Come here." Courfeyrac tried to get him over again but he was lying on Feuilly's motionless body, sobbing. "Grantaire is alive, too." he told Enjolras._

_"And you, frere?" Enjolras asked, crunching on the dirt that was in his mouth._

_"Leg is broken for sure..." he knew his head was bleeding but he hadn't been shot there. _

_"And 'Taire?" _

_"I don't know. Defininitely stomach or chest but alive." he said and called Grantaire again but got no answer. Rene came back. "The men are coming..."_

_"Good boy." Courfeyrac said. "Go check on Combeferre again." he told him and heard the welcome sound of voices and horses with carts. _

_"He's throwing up so I put him on his side." Rene reported and waved a man over to where Combeferre was lying. _

_"My friends are worse." Courfeyrac told the man who came over to him and lay him back to check his leg. _

_"Not much." the man said, looking at his head, wrapping cloth around it. Courfeyrac winced. Not for him but when he saw them going to lift Enjolras...it would hurt...wouldn't it? Why wasn't he screaming...he was eerily quiet. Couldn't he feel it? He saw them putting Combeferre on an improvised stretcher and reached his hand out for them to stop. _

_"Fleur __and Margurite are __with my sister..." he said. _

_"Tell me that when we see each other__ again__." Courfeyrac smiled and kissed his hand, confident that they would. He jumped when he heard Enjolras begin to scream about the pain in his back. "Thank God." he whispered to the sky._

_Grantaire didn't go quietly. Between the pain, fear, nausea and the alcohol still in his blood, they finally had to strap down his arms. No worry of paralysis on his part. Finally, Courfeyrac's leg was stabilised and they lifted him onto another stretcher. _

_The street children walked with the stretchers to the carts. Courfeyrac looked at them...all they had seen and heard. He thought of Gavroche and the others...__it felt like __weeks since they had seen the children...thank God. He thought of Minette...this was going to be so painful, thank God she was with __Nico__ but it was not going to be easy to tell her, especially when the others survived. __He felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher and bit his lip against the pain in his leg. He looked up at the scabby outside walls of the Cafe Musain. There would be nothing left in there, now. It would probably fall over soon._

Combeferre's recovery was most remarkable. The shot in his head affected his speech and left side hearing more than anything but he was alive. He would have to learn to compensate for the vertigo but his mind was clear and he actually provided encouragement for the other two in the two months they were in recovery.

"C'mon, Captain." he encouraged from his bed as the nurses helped Enjolras to his feet to take some steps. Enjolras muttered some rudities but his legs did move, they just needed to learn to balance and support him again. They would.

They kept any news of Grantaire from the other three, just saying he is recovering but unable to join them at the moment. Infection was passed after bleeding and draining him but he was very weak and had been quarantined.

"Quarantined?" Enjolras asked and they explained about the measles.

"No..." Combeferre shook his head when they said they would just have to wait and see. "If the quarantine is lifted, take him here..." he gave them the address for his flat. "Get him out of here, he will never recover." he knew how sick the ward he would be in was.

"No.." Enjolras said and gave his mother's address. "She was a nurse before she married." he explained. "She won't understand who he is but she will help...you'll need to take me home first."

"Monseiur Enjolras...you need to learn to walk." the doctor said.

"I learned to walk in that house once..." he said.. "I will learn again."

"You don't know our captain." Courfeyrac smiled at the doctor as he came into the room. "Take me home, too." he said.

Enjolras and Combeferre smiled. Courfeyrac was getting around fairly well, aided only by a cane to help him adjust to his new bent leg. Any time he fell into despair over his new bent leg, though, he thought about the others. His mother visited, brought newspapers and news from home. He wanted to see Gavroche but he was too young to come visit. His mother talked about how well he was doing in school but he hated the uniform. Knowing it was Courfeyrac's old school made it a bit better. They were even going to take a bit of a holiday to the seaside so they would be away for about a week.

When the quarantine was lifted, Courfeyrac, the only one who was out of bed for any length of time went up to see him. "Can you bring me a razor?" he asked the nuns. They wouldn't have any idea how to shave a man's face but Grantaire was in desperate need of one. It was eerie though as he slept through the whole shave with a cloth tied around his head to protect his eyes. "There! All pretty again." Courfeyrac whispered.

"I will walk." Enjolras said when the carriage stopped in front of his parents' house. They had placed a wheelchair to take home, too but he wasn't going to be wheeled in when he could walk. Besides, it would be a short ride, being as there was a step down from the carriage and three up from the street to the front door.

Slowly he rose to his feet in the carriage and the footman held out an arm to the returning hero. A hero, not because he won the battle but that he survived it. He stepped down with his right foot...oh shit, how was he going to get his left foot out with it now behind him? Obviously, the footman was used to dealing with crippled people before because he had ways of giving someone grace as they untangled themself from a carriage. Disabled people. He would not be called that for long. The front door opened and the woman with her black hair under her white maid's cap held a gasp for a moment. "Madame!" she yelled into a house that stood for none of that, especially from staff. "Monsieur!" she called again to his father. "We did NOT expect you home so soon or we would have sent for you."

Lucien Enjolras was first to the door to see what the commotion was about, seeing his son walk awkwardly but under his own power to the hand rail at the foot of the stairs. While two more of thee house staff went out to get the wheelchair, the elder Enjolras went down the stairs to offer assistance. "I'll get up, Papa." the younger said. His problem was bringing his second foot forward. It didn't lift as high, he would work on that.

"You will, but not yet." the father said and met him on the stairs, offering his shoulder for balance. Enjolras blinked back the tears. Was this what it took to gain any kind of assistance from his father? Why now? At the same time, the father was cursing himself for waiting until this moment to demonstrate just how much his son meant to him. It was in taking guardianship of a second little boy, who was so much like the older one he hadn't watched grow up that he saw the years he would never be able to recover. Before his son began the long, three-stair climb into the house, Lucien gave him kisses to his cheeks. Not polite, obligatory kisses but serious, like he was hoping they would make up for those that were missing. "Easy, easy..." he said, lifting his son on every second step until he was on level ground. "Sit in the chair."

"I will walk, Papa." Enjolras said again.

"You will, but not now." his father said again and would have no more arguments, dropping him into the wheelchair. Finally, Enjolras' mother had her turn.

"I'm okay, Mama." he promised as she bent over and cried into his neck. She had been to see him in the hospital but didn't realise he was this close to getting out but they had kept the news from the children until they knew how things were going to turn out.

"Nico..." Enjolras said, looking around. "...Minette will need to be told gently..." he said, tears finally falling to think of telling her. "I have no idea how to tell her but before I do..." he settled in to ask yet another huge favour. "You don't know Georges Grantaire..." he stalled.

"Only what you have told me..." Mme Enjolras said.

"Well...yeah." Enjolras nodded. How did he humbly say he took back all the time he trashed him? Did he trash him? Or just express frustration? He knew he treated him poorly at times. "But what I've told you wasn't always very nice. Mama..." he said the realised it was really the head of the household he should be addressing. "Papa...he has no family, he was sick with the measles but will soon be out of quarantine then put into the wards where Combeferre says they don't get better, they just...lie there and die." he explained. "He'll have a chance if someone goes and cares for him or if he has somewhere to go and be cared for."

"He is a friend of yours?" Lucien asked.

"Yes, Papa." Enjolras nodded though he mightn't have said that up 'til now...merely an acquaintance.

"He has one of these...gamin in his charge?" Lucien asked. Clearly the presence of these children changed him. He hadn't associated the Courfeyrac's guest until Enjolras said the next part.

"Yes, Papa." Enjolras said and realised there was a huge trump card he could play. "And she's deaf and will have no chance if he dies. It really IS just the two of them." he said. "I don't even know where she is." he was barely finished when the door flew open and Nico and Minette came running in. Nanny Caroline had her hands full with the children and they had been hard at play...dirty, something Enjolras had rarely been allowed to be.

Nico stopped dead in his tracks, his face turning from the 'amused' look of a boy at play to the puzzled look as he tried to figure out if what he was seeing was real.

"Yes, Nico..." Enjolras smiled. "...I'm here." he said and the little boy came running over. For a second he wondered why Enjolras wasn't getting up and then he noticed the chair. "It's okay," he said. "It's just for awhile, my legs are weak." he explained and picked Minette up and put her on his lap. "Nettie..." he hugged and kissed her. How was he going to tell her? "Hold close." he hugged her to him. "We all got hurt pretty bad..." he said. "Jean Prouvaire got very badly hurt..."

"He's with the angels, isn't he?" Nico asked.

"Yes." Enjolras whispered. "He loved you so much Minette." he said. "I'll bet his last thought was of you." he could feel her tiny body melting into tears and heard the small whimpers as it all started up. Nico asked what happened to him and Enjolras shook his head, it wasn't important, he was dead. He held her and stroked her silky fairy hair, thinking that she has lost both parents plus an extra parent figure in just so few years of her life. "I'm sorry..." he whispered to Minette. She reached her arms around his neck and cried heavy tears. "...you'll stay with us." he told her so she needn't fear they were going to be separated.

Enjolras' parents left him with the children and occupied their time in other ways. At mealtime, one of the house staff took Minette from Enjolras' lap and tidied her up to sit at the table. Enjolras' shirt was covered in tears and snot and all of the evidence of a small, sorrowful girl having sat on his lap so Mme Enjolras brought a new shirt for him to change into before he placed his feet deliberately in front of him and boosted himself out of that chair. One of the male staff was there with his shoulder but Nico was on the other side of him, arm around his waist 'to keep him from falling' and watched as he walked to the dining room. "You're right..." he said. "...you will walk." he could see not only the determination but he just knew that if there was a will there was a way and if there was a possibility, it would be done.

Minette ate little bits. They never asked the children to eat too much, only that they join the meal for just a little while but eventually, it wasn't any use to keep her there. Nanny Caroline took her to her room and stayed there with her while the family ate and talked more. Nico wanted to hear what happened to everyone, everything that had gone on and what was going to happen now.

"Well..." Enjolras told all he could, mostly about the ones who lived, how they were doing and as for what was going to happen "...I guess we return to school and let others rise to take our place." he said. He wasn't going to be any good in battle anymore. He was more than willing to keep the motivation and kinship going but what kind of 'leader' would that be who couldn't take his place at the front line?

"You still gonna' be a lawyer?" Nico asked.

"I hope so, Nico." Enjolras smiled.

As the evening grew on, Enjolras and his father settled in the parlour for a brandy and more talk. "About Grantaire..." Enjolras said. Their conversations always took a long time to end because there was always something to talk about. "...he'll die, Papa."

"Who?" M. Enjolras asked. "Oh yes...well...a girl, too you say?"

"Yes but we can't just take her." Enjolras said, wondering if that's what his father had in mind. "You saw what happened to Minette with Prouvaire dying and that was something we couldn't do anything about. With Grantaire, he WILL live if we get him out of there and have someone who can take care of him and then we can find out where Peep is...SOMEONE must know. Grantaire would know but I haven't been able to see him."

"I think we could do that." M. Enjolras said. He didn't know who this guy was, didn't even have the same knowledge of how much he pissed people off, only that he had some serious thanking of divine power.

Nico and Minette came into the parlour in their night clothes. Minette just climbed on Enjolras' lap again and lay her sad head against his chest while Nico sat and drank his hot milk. "Can I have some of that?" he asked Enjolras tipped a few drops of brandy into his milk. They talked for awhile and when Nico went to bed, it was not with Nanny but with Mme Enjolras. As she had promised, she was the one to tuck the children in, kiss them goodnight and hear their prayers, Enjolras stayed downstairs and held Minette in his arms as she messed up another shirt.

"We just got her speaking to us..." M. Enjolras said "...who knows how much longer she will be in silence?"

"Or if she'll ever get any kind of confidence that anything is permanent. " Enjolras sighed and kissed her forehead as she slept. "Can you take her to bed, I'll be there soon." he asked his father to picked her off of his lap and took her upstairs. There were ten steps to the second level but they were wider and not as steep, Enjolras could get better footing...he WOULD walk again! He only had a few minutes to think about climbing the stairs before exhaustion overtook him, though and his head tipped back in the chair. His mother went and fetched a blanket to spread over him as his father came back to the parlour.

"Don't bother." he said and slipped one arm under his son's legs and wrapped the other around his shoulder, lifting him gently so his head would rest against him and not flop back. "He has lost a lot of weight." he said.

"Papa..." Mme. Enjolras said. "...then again, when did you last hold him in your arms?"

Lucien Enjolras, only aged 55 and still very healthy, carried his son to his bed and lay him down, taking off his clothes. As he put a nightshirt on him, he looked at the scar that had been a hole in his back. How much did it miss his spine by? Enough to do damage but not to totally paralyse him, it couldn't have been much. And what about the scars that they wouldn't see? Every man there had seen at least one battle in his day and carried nightmares. "You will walk again." he told his son as he kissed his head.

"But not right now." Enjolras mumbled.


	16. Recovery Part 3

He knew he would forever carry the cane assisted limping reminder of their failure to make things right.

After his graduation, the reputation of Lawyer Francois Courfeyrac would come with a 'three step' sound effect...foot, cane, foot. Perhaps they would call him "the limping lawyer" and it may make him sad but it would make him realise that he may not be able to stand at a barricade but from behind a desk, he may be able to do more good. His passion would become closing shitty orphanages, relocating children...maybe even look Emily up and see if she was still going on with HER mission. Maybe, by the time he graduated it wouldn't be necessary but if it was, he would be sure children got out of the city if possible to good homes with waiting arms like his parents, God bless them.

But, that was all projection. Right now he had to worry about getting back into routine and back to school. He hadn't been able to take a girl to his mother. He wanted to take Margurite but by the time he decided, she was gone, Grantaire was about as depressed and drunk as they'd ever seen him and he kept saying she was fine so he left it at that. He would find a little girl but it would probably work better with his mother by his side. He would worry about that later, now, the carriage was pulling up to the Estate du Courfeyrac and the beautiful brown maid, Ayisha was sweeping the front porch.

"Monsieur Francois!" she said and called into the house "He's back! Monsieur Francois is back!" The footman from the carriage held his arm out to help Courfeyrac step down, but unlike his captain, once on the ground, with his cane he was very capable.

"'Allo, Ayisha." he walked, looking quite dapper with his rich boy clothes and new cane. But he was thin, too thin. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Just glad to be home to you guys and Gavroche..." he said and missed the look the maid gave.

"Before you go in..." the maid said quickly "Your mama didn't think it was good to tell you while you were in the hospital but...you need to know...the fever..." she said. "...it came here shortly after you left Gavroche here, it was harsh..."

"Gav?" Courfeyrac's eyes started watering. After all this? He had begged his father's protection after having brought Gavroche in off the streets to probably save his life or at least save him from a life of thievery and perpetuating his father's criminal ways? What about school, hating the uniform? The trip to the sea? Were those just tales told so that he didn't have to deal with it while he was concentrating on recovering from his injuries?

"Courfeyrac!" he heard the child's voice come out the door. Gavroche couldn't believe what he was seeing. He started down the steps but was so overtaken, he could only sit down and cry. Not in joy but also in seeing the cane. Mama had already told Gavroche about the change but he now saw it. Having a second thought about jumping into his big brother's arms or on his back, he got up and rang to him, for hugging around his chest.

"Souris! Oh thank God." he whispered and cried a bit into the top of his blonde head. His hear smelled so good and clean and was so soft and...un-sticky against his cheek.

"I'm sorry about Papa..." he cried.

"Papa?" Courfeyrac whispered? "Oh no." he hugged Gavroche and kept on repeating the words "No...no..no..." as Gavroche wrapped his arms tighter and tighter around his waist. Gavroche kept his arm around his waist as he "helped" him into the house. His mother came to the foyer...she was in black. His mother, always dressed gaily and colourful NEVER dressed in black. "Mama?" he whimpered and fell to her arms.

"Mon dieu!" Mme Courfeyrac said and cried. "Francois, you should have said you were coming home, I would have prepared you." she sobbed.

"Was this your 'trip to the seaside', Mama?" He asked, not sure if he was angry so just settling for sad. "When?"

"Last month, Cheri." she stroked his face. "I'm sorry...it was very quick..." she didn't have time to say anything more before a little girl came bounding down the stairs . She was a vision in a butter yellow dress with matching hair ribbons standing out against her dark curls and a white apron, just like your typical little rich girl. Mama had finally gotten a daughter!

"Peep?" Courfeyrac looked at her as she charged him. She was small enough that she couldn't take him off his feet when she finally reached him. He bent down and hugged her. He wasn't good enough yet to pick a child up with his one arm while balancing on his cane with the other. "How..." he shook his head.

"Gavroche knew where she was. She wouldn't settle there. We went to visit her and she fussed when he got ready to leave..." she explained and fumbled a bit with Peep's hair and clothing.

"Tsaih?" Peep asked as Courfeyrac sat down and she climbed on him.

"Soon?" he said, having no idea how to relay that information to her. "He's alive..." he shrugged hopelessly. All he could do is smile and nod but that didn't tell her anything, then he remembered the sign for 'okay' that she and Grantaire had made up and he touched his nose.

"Francois..." his mother said and he looked. "...do this." she showed him the sign for 'soon' then told the little girl "...tell him where you learned this..." and the beginning of the word 'teacher' came out spoken as well as the sign. "We have a teacher come in every day." she explained. She felt a bit sad. If Grantaire was okay, her days with the girl may be numbered. She knew she could give her more than Grantaire could but these men had given everything and the children talked about them constantly. They belonged to them.

"Are you going to live here now?" Gavroche asked as Courfeyrac tucked them in that night. Peep had her own room but usually slept with Gavroche in Courfeyrac's old bed.

"For now, yeah." he said, sitting on the bed to give his leg a rest. "I don't think there's much of the cafe to go back to and what's the point?" he asked. Life was just going to be so different now. "Thanks for taking care of Peep, Souris." he stroked Gavroche's hair back. "Grantaire is going to love seeing her - especially like this." he pointed to her sleeping in her actual nightgown instead of just one of Grantaire's old shirts. Seeing Gavroche, too made Courfeyrac realise that they hadn't really been too attentive of how the kids looked while they lived at the cafe.

"I miss Papa." Gavroche said. It made Courfeyrac stop for a second until he realised that Gavroche was NOT talking about Thenardier.

"I do too, Souris." he nodded and Gavroche started crying.

"He was so good to me."

"He was good to me too...he was good to everyone." Courfeyrac rubbed his head.

"I wish you could carry me around like you used to do when I was too upset to sleep." he cried.

"I do, too." Courfeyrac said. "Stupid cane." he smiled sadly. "I'll get the hang of it, most likely but by the time I get it mastered, you're going to be too big to be carried around."

"Does it hurt?" Gavroche asked, lying with his head up against Courfeyrac's hip. "Did you get shot?"

"Yeah, it does. They say that may go away. I didn't get shot anywhere but they had cannons and it blew everything all over the place. Part of the barricade fell on me." he pulled his hair to the side to show where there had been several deep cuts. "Enjolras got shot in the back, he's very lucky to be walking at all."

"Does he have a cane, too?"

"No but he might." Courfeyrac shrugged. God he missed his friends, he had to send word and get them all together either at his place or he go over to Enjolras'.

"Combeferre got shot in the head." he continued and Gavroche gave a jump. "He's recovering, too." he promised. "Just a bit deaf." and smiled when Gavroche said maybe he'd sit in with Peep's teacher. "Well, I think Grantaire should DEFINITELY do that."

"Does Grantaire still drink a lot?" Gavroche asked.

"Well he didn't at the hospital, I don't know about now." Courfeyrac said. That was it, he had to send a message the next day. "If he's better...probably." he grinned.

"He's an alcoholic, isn't he?" Gavroche askked.

"Where'd you learn that word?" Courfeyrac jumped.

"Some of Papa's friends used to say that about their friends." Gavroche said. "It means they can't stop."

"Grantaire has tried...and he might try again and maybe being sick this long, he won't drink anymore."

"At least he's not mean." Gavroche said. "Grumpy but not mean." The little boy's blue eyes grew glassy with sleep. He stopped talking for just a second and in the silence he saw Gavroche's arm relax and his warm little hand came to a rest on Courfeyrac's hip. Courfeyrac sat awhile longer, leaning his head back against the wall, almost falling asleep. He got up, tucked the blankets around the children and gave them kisses.

He went back down the stairs and into another sitting room. On the wall was a portrait of his parents on their wedding day and he looked at it for a moment, tears rolling down his face. "Thank you, Papa." he whispered. "You took care of the children, you asked very few questions and took not one but two." he said, wiping his hand across his eyes, letting silent sobs overtake him. He jumped a bit when he felt his mother behind him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and leaned her head on his back, kissing between his shoulder blades and she was also crying.

"He loved you so much." she said. "And he was so proud of you."

"Oh, was he?" Courfeyrac tilted his head up and the tears streamed off of his temples.

"He was scared, Francois. Scared exactly of...this." she motioned to his injuries. "He didn't want you hurt but he was so proud that you sacrificed so much for what you believed in. And we prayed every night."

"Thank you, they worked." He said. "But had I known..." he said and buried his face in his hand. "He knew I was alive though?"

"Oh yes. He didn't have the heart to come visit...I wish he had now. She said and he nodded then turned to face her. Cognac on the terrace, perhaps?" She offered.

"You don't drink cognac, mama." He said.

"We need to toast a great man." She said.

"Mama..." he said. "Don't wear black, okay?" He told her. "I know you're a widow but it's not the law, you know."

"Well, you're the man of the house..." she shrugged.

"This isn't coming from the man of the house." He said, sitting in a chair while a butler brought his drink. "This is from someone whose mother would rather be dead..." he paused, maybe put that saying to rest for awhile. "...would rather wear her night dress outside than be seen in black." He said. It was bad enough they would all have to find a new normal, don't mess with the old ways if it wasn't necessary.


	17. Recovery - Part 4

**A/N for a timeline, we're up to about mid-August. School was finished by the time the rebellion happened but they hadn't written exams.**

Combeferre had sent word to Danielle that he was alive and well but couldn't go home for awhile. Danielle visited and she kept Fleur up to date but, like Gavroche, she was too young to go into the hospital. Fleur wrote notes to him and sent him her usual gift of a flower. Only, now she could buy one from the lady on the corner instead of bumming one that was almost dead off of her in the late afternoon.

It was a fine day late in July when Danielle asked Fleur if she wanted to go to the shops. It wasn't odd, it was one of their favourite ways to spend a Saturday. They got up like every other Saturday and got dressed in their "go to town" clothes.. With her jet black hair and green eyes, Fleur suited just about any colour but her emerald green dress was her favourite and for some strange reason, that is what she chose to wear that day, even though she had no idea where she was going.

She could see they were heading away from the shops but often Danielle surprised her with visits to tea gardens in other areas of the city and it was a beautiful day.

She got a bit nervous when she saw the nuns. She knew that nuns ran orphanages and girl's schools. "Frere Yvan said to wait for him with you." she said quietly to Danielle.

"Oui, Cheri!" Danielle said.

"Why are you leaving me at a convent then?" She asked.

"Convent?" Danielle asked. "Mais non!" She smiled and would have laughed but she could see that it alarmed the little girl. "This is a hospital..." she paused as they went down to a garden where Fleur stopped and gasped with her hands to her mouth.

Her voice caught with her breath, she wasn't sure if she was supposed to breathe in or out and the tears poured out of her eyes and she laughed a bit. Finally she just sat on a bench with her head in her hands and bawled.

"Fleur." Combeferre said, amused by her reaction. "Come here funny girl." He waved her over.

"I don't know if I can." she cried.

"Then I guess I shall come to you." He stood up and walked towards her. Finally she was able to stand and she ran into his arms. "I missed you." he kissed the top of her head and hugged her gently but made it clear he would never let go of her again as she heaved sobs into his chest. "Oh Sweetie..." he said. His balance was fair now so he could pick her up and hold her but he couldn't take any steps. "Come sit with me." he put her back down and they went back to the bench.

"Are you coming home today?" she asked him, a bit sad that she didn't have a flower for him but she just sat beside him and held his hand, telling him about school and everything that happened. "Danielle didn't tell me if anyone died, only that you're alive."

"Oh..." Combeferre said when he heard that. He hadn't realised that but in a way he was glad that he was able to be there to help her through the pain so he pulled her close to him and broke the news. "I'm last to be in here and I think Grantaire is slow on the mend but he's living with Enjolrases right now." he kept his arm around her while she cried for those they lost.

"The Renes?" she asked.

"I don't know that anyone has heard from them or seen them." he shrugged. "Nobody has gone back to Sainte Michel but Emily and Eponine are probably through there again, hopefully anyway." he felt a bit helpless but there was nothing he could do from where he was and everyone else was in their own stage of recovery.

"What if I go and see?" Fleur asked. There's something I left in my room...our room..."

"You stay away from there." Combeferre said. He thought about how very out of place she would be there now in her beautiful dress, white ankle socks and dressy shoes. She even had a handbag to match. "Look at you! You look so grown up!" he said and smiled_ '...and you actually behave like a little girl!" _he thought as she had been so much under the influence of Nico, Gavroche and the Renes he was ready to just start dressing her in trousers so she could keep up with them in play. Danielle had given them a few moments to themselves and now they were all ready to go have a cup of tea in the hospital garden.

"They said I'm seven." Fleur said, holding his hand. She tried skipping beside him but it was too easy to pull him off balance so she had to walk but every few steps she had to stop and hug around his waist or kiss his hand. "Will we get to see everyone again?" She asked and he assured her that they would all get together after everyone was mended. They would all have to get back to school fairly soon if they were expected to finish the year. He wondered how well he would do listening to lectures, maybe he would look into a tutor. It could have been Joly...his heart sank...for everything Joly thought would kill him, muskets were definitely one of them.

There were visiting families and eventually the children got bored. The nuns brought a ball out and the kids kicked it around. "Fleur! Your dress!" Danielle shouted and Combeferre laughed. It took only the sight of a ball and someone to play with and the fancy girl's clothes were forgotten. They got talking to other families who tried to figure out the dynamics of the Combeferre family until they heard Fleur call him "Frere-Yvan."

"She's young to be your sister" someone said.

"There's nine of us between Yvan and her." Danielle pulled a number out of her head. It would make more sense that she was last in a long line of children than born twelve years after Danielle. Fleur was a bit tearful when she said good-bye at the end of the visit. While she knew he was going to be alright and eventually would be home, the knowledge that he was so close but she couldn't see him just whenever she wanted was frustrating. Danielle promised that they could visit every Saturday, even if she couldn't make it, she would send Fleur alone but it really only added up to four visits before the carriage stopped in front of the little flat and Combeferre stepped down on to the curb, pretty much looking like nothing had happened. Fleur just happened to be looking out the window and she tore out of the door, not even telling Danielle what was happening. She could only run. The walkway seemed insufferably long but it was mostly because she was holding her breath. She slowed down before she got to him so she didn't push him over but it wasn't necessary. He stopped and picked her up, holding her high above his head for a second before pulling her to him, kissing her and carrying her into the house.

Combeferre was home for another few weeks to rest up and review his text books during the day when the house was empty. By then, he decided to not to hurry to catch up. A few of his fellow students came by to help him study but it was best if he just take his time and take a year off of school. Fleur did her best to keep out of the road but there was always time in the evening to catch up with each others' day.

"Frere-Yvan!" Fleur came through the door one afternoon with a note. "The man brought you a message." she handed it to him and he gave her some money to tip the messenger. "What is it?" she asked as he stood and read it.

"It's from Courfeyrac." Combeferre smiled. "We're invited over there for mid day tea on Sunday."

"Is everyone going to be there?" Fleur asked twirling in excitement.

"I'm hoping." he said. "I guess that means Grantaire is feeling better."

Grantaire's improvement was slow and they didn't understand why. He was very weak and tired, his eyes still bothered him and he was still having bouts of confusion and restlessness. The doctor made many house calls and just as many guesses but at least his eyes were well enough to be uncovered as long as he stayed indoors. They were getting dark glasses especially made for when he went outdoors but until that time, he just stayed indoors.

"Ew...was it necessary that your face was the first thing for me to see?" He kidded with Enjolras when the eye coverings finally came off but was glad to see him. He had been in to visit and talk but they were allowed no visitors to the house due to nobody knowing what Grantaire had. Nobody else came down with anything but they had all possibly been exposed.

"Can you at least see?" Enjolras asked and Grantaire said that he could but it was as if a little bit of sunlight was like it was directly in his eyes. He could tell, also that he was going to need reading glasses. "Once the sun is gone down, did you want to go sit outside?" Enjolras offered.

"I want to see Margurite." Grantaire said. "I want a drink and I want to see Margurite."

"You're not getting either right now." Enjolras said. "She can't come over until you're cleared...'til this house has been cleared."

"Have you been back?" Grantaire asked that afternoon as the sun was just starting to set.

"No, I can't go anywhere...thanks to you." He teased him.

"Wonder if the others have." he said and got up from where he was resting and followed Enjolras out onto the patio. "You're getting pretty good on your feet again." he said when they settled on the rattan furniture. "You even use the chair anymore?" he asked and Enjolras shook his head.

"The kids are having more fun in it now." he grinned but they kept it at the house in case they were going on long excursions, perhaps there would be formals that required long days of socialising and Enjolras would need to rest for awhile. "Speaking of whom..." Enjolras said as the children came out onto the terrace to visit before bedtime. Apparently, "parlour time" was outdoors that night and behind the children came Mme Enjolras with two glasses of hot milk. Minette crawled up on Enjolras' lap. She was getting a bit more sociable but she pushed herself to stay up as late as Nico so she was already well past her expiry date.

"When do we get to see Peep?" Nico asked and Grantaire gnawed on the inside of his cheek. If he'd opened his mouth, he probably would have told the kid off for having brought up her name, even though he did nothing wrong.

"When this is a healthy household again." Mme Enjolras said. "We will invite them all over." as she walked behind Grantaire's chair, she ran her hand across his shoulders, she knew this was hard on him. In his eyes, he owed this family so much. He was no longer in any danger, he could just as easily go to the house his father had left him but they wouldn't hear of it.

M. Enjolras had searched all over the house for his family. It was unusual that they gather outdoors but then it was a nice evening. "You've graduated to outdoors, Georges!" he remarked. Generally, Grantaire was long in bed by the time everyone else was meeting in the parlour. He brought three brandies with him. Enjolras didn't notice him innocently hand Grantaire a brandy at first because he was tipping the little bit from his glass into Nico's milk. He gasped, seeing Grantaire accept the brandy and take a sip. How long could he have gone without a drink had his father not done that? It wasn't his fault, he was just being a host and celebrating the 'resurrection' of Georges Grantaire. "And we got good news from the doctor today. We can finally leave and have visitors in." he announced and the children cheered.

The brandy felt so good. Grantaire held it in his mouth for a moment to feel the tingling and taste the sweetness. He wouldn't have access to the great amounts of it like at the cafe until he got out on his own again but this was, in his eyes, a nice glide into the 'good old days'. Another big difference was that the drinking actually stopped at the house. His host only brought a glass for each of them out onto the terrace, it wasn't like he put a whole bottle there for everyone to help themselves.

Later on that evening, Grantaire lay back in his bed. He had been out of bed a lot but sitting outside made him feel great and he longed for his window to be left open but there was this superstition about night air being poisonous, according to people who didn't live in places where the windows didn't close. "Come in." he said when someone knocked on the door.

"Are you okay, Georges?" Mme. Enjolras asked. "You got very quiet. I know you miss Margurite, you will see her soon, now that we're not under quarantine." she fixed the curtains just 'so' and felt his face for fever. It was almost as though she would never get used to the fact that these guys were grown men but actually it was just that she was so thankful to have them home.

"I'm just still very tired. Madame..." he said and smiled, a bit foggy from the brandy. "...you have done so much for me, I have to thank you and your husband for all your help." he said to her. She always wanted to know why his own mother had no interest in being with him but she didn't ask anyone.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need to." she smiled down at him. "Sylvain is talking about getting a tutor to the house so that you and he can write your exam and take the first term here then be ready to start up again after Christmas." Grantaire smiled. It was just like Enjolras to be just barely on his feet when he started to worry about school but if the truth be known, he was anxious to get back into a routine, even if that routine involved living at the bottom of a wine bottle - which wasn't going to happen in the Enjolras' house. He was so tired, all he could do was yawn and nod, barely feeling the last stroke Josette gave his hair before falling asleep. He slept fitfully. He had traded his snoring in for night terrors, alarming staff and bringing Enjolras...as quickly as he could, to his side. If there was anything instrumental in getting Enjolras on his feet and moving, it was Grantaire's night terrors.

It made sense though. Drunk, he slipped into the oblivion. Nothing hurt, nothing scared him, no recurring dreams or memories, he relaxed enough that he wouldn't notice the racket he created when he snored. Sober...or at least trying to be he was allowed to remember and never slept sound enough to snore, hence the constant fatigue and lethargy. "It's okay..." Enjolras held and comforted him after a terror and slept beside him for a few hours to keep him quiet. He woke, cold because he had laid on top of the covers so he just went back to his own bed and Grantaire slept peacefully the rest of the night, not noticing Enjolras gone. Someone was there though, they were sitting on top of the covers.

"Tsaih." He heard and his eyes popped open. Rolling over, he smiled back at the little face smiling at him.

"Ohhh..." he whispered. "...Peep..." he said and felt his eyes start to water and then run. He reached his arms up and pulled her down onto his chest, burying his face into her hair. The first thing he noticed was the same as the others, she smelled so clean. Consequently, that was one of the first things the children noticed about the adults. All in all, they must have been a smelly bunch up in the cafe, though the flea juice had a peculiar smell that they all had to admit they missed. "I missed you so much." He cried.

There was something else different that Peep noticed. He didn't have the sweet wine smell. She wasn't sure if she liked that or not but she was giggly and happy where she was. His tears would have startled her but that she had seen those of Courfeyrac and Gavroche and knew about happy tears. "So much." He kept saying. Never again would he wonder why she chose him. Well, he would forever wonder but never question.

"Papa..." Peep said. Oh God, no...not this again!

"I'm not your..." he paused and thought ahead ten years. Would he rather be seen as Georges Grantaire, the lawyer who has been careless at age eighteen and loved a woman who left him to raise their daughter alone? Or as the dirty old man in his mid-thirties who kept a sixteen year old deaf girl? It had to be either his lie or the public's assumption. Nobody would accept the truth. Maybe he should sign and finalise those forms they filled in after all. Besides, he had been called a lot worse things than Papa. Hell, Enjolras had called him worse! "...okay..." he sighed as he pulled the blankets over her so that they could snooze awhile more. "Okay." He touched his nose and then hers.

"Georges..." Mme. Enjolras came into the bedroom. "We've been invited to the deCourfeyrac's for mid day. Are you too tired?" She asked. "Oh, these came today." She showed him the darkened glasses. They weren't black-outs like the blind, just darkened.

"Not on your life." He answered her question about being too tired to go see Courfeyrac.

"Okay, let's go." She held a hand out to Peep. "Let him get dressed."

"Papa..." she said and pointed. Mme Enjolras was ready to correct her until she looked at Grantaire who was smiling and nodding.

"Come on then, let Papa get dressed."


	18. Picnic

Both carriages had arrived at the same time. Out on the street, Enjolras and Combeferre fell together in a huge embrace before Combeferre grabbed Grantaire and hugged him. "Didn't recognise you without a bottle in your hand." He said.

"We'll remedy that soon." Grantaire said, enjoying being out in the sunlight again. "Have we met before Mademoiselle?" He asked the young lady in the vibrant lilac dress and kissed her hand.

"It's me, Frere Georges!" Fleur laughed then squealed when she saw Nico and Minette and hugged them. She forgot for a moment about Minette's loss.

"Fleur." Combeferre raised an eyebrow at her and nodded towards Minette.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Nettie." She said.

"Thank you." Mme Enjolras said quietly reminding Minette of the appropriate reply when someone expresses sympathy.

Combeferre picked Minette up and kissed her, hugging her. "You still look like a fairy." he told her gently and reached a hand out to Nico to come for a hug too as Fleur went to Enjolras for a hug and kiss. The door flew open and Gavroche came flying out to see his friends. He started with the adults, he may as well because the kids would all be taking off on their own anyway. Combeferre picked Gavroche up and hugged and kissed him. Gavroche had expected scars to show. He parted Combeferre's hair to the side and saw what had been a bullet hole. "Gross huh?" Combeferre asked and Gavroche nodded.

"Hey Gav." Enjolras said. He was still unable to hold children while he was standing so he hugged him tightly and kissed his head. "I've missed you." He closed his eyes. He would always wonder about the Renes but those were the only two children they lost.

"Are you coming in?" Gavroche asked and led the way. "Mama! They're here!" He hollered as he came through the door.

"I'll take it from here, Petit Maitre." The butler said and introduced the bunch who came through the door. Combeferre and Enjolras were used to the formality but Grantaire wasn't. Thy didn't have a butler while he was growing up, just maids.

"Messieurs Enjolras, Grantaire et Combeferre." The butler announced. "Bienvenue Mademoiselle Margurite." he said to the little girl in Grantaire's arms he was familiar with but she wouldn't look at him.

"I think she's scared I'm going to leave her." Grantaire said.

"Bienvenue!" They heard from the sitting room. "Come in!"

"Madame deCourfeyrac!" Mme Enjolras said and the women kissed.

"For God's sake mama..." Courfeyrac came into the sitting room. "WE..." he pointed between himself and Enjolras mostly but including the other two. "...have been through hell for the past six months." he addressed his mother, stunning in a sapphire blue dress and hair jewels. "If you two aren't about as close to being sisters as you can get, I don't know how much closer you can get." he said and faced Mme Enjolras. "May I introduce you to my mother Marcelle deCourfeyrac?"

Mme Enjolras laughed at Courfeyrac's lecture. "Bonjour Marcelle, I am Josette." As the women looked towards Enjolras' father, they waited for his response.

"By all means you may call me Lucien." he said to Marcelle "but I will not be using your first name." he was far too old school for that.

"It was worth a try." Courfeyrac said to everyone then reached out and hugged Enjolras, both of them commenting on how good it was to see each other walking. "Well, you're doing much better than I." Courfeyrac said, his head still wedged between Enjolras' head and shoulder, patting his back. At least he was co-ordinated enough with the cane now that he didn't have the extra sound. He was up to a tap and a footstep.

"Sorry about your father." Enjolras said quietly and kissed the side of his head.

"All's well, Frere." he said. When they broke their hug, he looked at Grantaire, who was finally able to put Peep on the ground and she ran to play with the other kids.

Courfeyrac took a deep breath and let it out in a big sigh. "Wow, 'Taire, you scared the shit out of me." he said.

"Sorry about your father, Courf." Grantaire patted his back. "You know I remember part at the barricade." Grantaire said. "I remember you talking to me and telling me it was going to be okay."

"Did I lie?" Courfeyrac smiled but his throat was too tight to say anything else before hugging him. It wasn't just the injury it was the prolonged illness afterwards that scared him. It was the not knowing if he would see him again. He had lost some friends already, he didn't want to have one survive the battle and fall in illness. "C'mere." he reached out and hugged him, kissing the side of his head. "You got your girl back too." he said and Grantaire nodded. "Hey, doctor." Courfeyrac smiled at Combeferre and hugged him as strong as he did the other two. He had missed them so much, probably because of the loss of his father.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know about your father." Combeferre said, giving Courfeyrac a hug. "You look like you've been taking lessons on that thing." he motioned to the cane.

"I've been practicing, yeah." he laughed. "Come on, please." he waved everyone to a door on the opposite side of the house where they all filed out into the yard. The staff was already starting to set out the luncheon and everyone sat on the rattan furniture until they were called to the table.

"Can I take them down to see the horses?" Gavroche asked.

"Not until after we eat." Josette said. "You'll get dirty." The students smiled around the circle. God if she had only seen how dirty those kids got before and the only clean part of them when they ate were their hands.

Peep kept a death grip on Grantaire in spite of them telling her over and over that he was back to stay and she would always be with him. She barely left his lap the whole day and when she was sitting there, she kept her arm around his neck and a death grip on his hair, nobody was going to pull her away. Today it would be okay but it certainly wasn't going to be the rule after it. She was going to have to be a bit less clingy.

The best plan of action would be for her to stay at Courfeyrac's and spend the weekends with Grantaire. It would get her into the routine for when he went back to school but there was no way, even though they had means of a way to tell her, that it wouldn't set her off. The children had been through enough, it was time to give them the life they thought they were going to get when they joined them at the cafe in the first place. Nanny Caroline was still in the Enjolras household. Nico and Minette spent their days at school so she could look after Peep by day while Grantaire continued to rest but she would have to learn the sign language. So would Grantaire, for that matter.

"What about hiring a new nanny who already knows it?" Enjolras asked. "That way, when you move home..." he said, hoping he didn't sound like he was rushing him out the door. He was welcome to stay as long as he needed but life would get back its routine eventually. "...you take her with you."

"Good idea." Grantaire said. "That way I can learn it, too." He said and got Marcelle to help him tell her "I WILL learn to speak with my hands." The moment he told her that, she let go of his hair. It was actually a great idea because Nanny Caroline had her hands full with Nico and Minette in the evenings and she wasn't that young anymore.

They sat the children at their own table for lunch so that they could just be kids and the adults wouldn't hassel them with manners and the like. "Would it be terribly rude of me..." Grantaire asked after lunch had settled "...to ask if there was somewhere to rest for awhile?"

"Of course not." Marcelle said and showed him to a cool, dark room. She had a pitcher of water delivered there, in hopes that he would drink that rather than wine. One of the things Courfeyrac lectured her on when they wrote the invitations was that Grantaire was a heavy drinker, he hadn't seen him to know if he quit or cut down but the only instance she was allowed to even address it was if he got loud and belligerent, neither of which he was known to be but this battle changed everyone so anything was a possibility. "Papa is just going to sleep for awhile." She told Peep who appeared at the doorway and directed her out to the garden again.

The men moved to the porch for an afternoon sip as the women sat in the rattan garden furniture for tea as the staff tidied up the picnic area. Courfeyrac smiled as he saw Ayisha clearing the dishes away.

With more staff than they had ten years ago, she didn't have to do all the cleaning by herself - which meant he didn't feel compelled to jump in there and help after a large meal. It was even not uncommon for him to nip into the kitchen one night a week after most of the work was done and ask her to accompany him on a walk through the garden. Nobody saw the kisses that were stolen but it wouldn't have surprised them to hear about them.

Courfeyrac didn't feel like a cognac yet. He was still on a 'high' from seeing his friends. He could hear in the distance, the children down with the horses from the small farm next door. They couldn't go into the yard but they pet and fed them through the fence. Enjolras Senior and Junior sat with Combeferre, who held Peep on his lap as she pressed her ear up to his chest to feel his voice. The late afternoon air was having its way with the flowers in the garden, it was a day right out of a greeting card or magazine and Courfeyrac went over to the table where they had eaten. "Ayisha." he said. "There's lots of people here and you're almost done, come take a walk with me." he waved. Ayisha looked back at the other staff, who waved her on so she took off her apron and joined him.

He had always found her to be beautiful. At first it was just a schoolboy crush and then as he got older, he allowed himself to be convinced that any kind of union between the two of him, considering their colour and culture difference would simply not be accepted by his circle and more importantly his father. It wasn't that Dr. deCourfeyrac thought of persons of colour as lesser life forms or less deserving of happiness and comfort, only that the two races shouldn't mix. In attempts to try to forget her, the young Monsieur Courfeyrac sewed his wild oats with, luckily, no fallout around the university campus. While this was no secret, somehow it managed to keep from the ears of his parents but his fondness for Ayisha was the reason Courfeyrac avoided any connections or set-ups with the daughters or the high society.

"You're happy to see your friends again, aren't you?" she asked him, as she held his left arm and they walked the garden path. "You're right about the other children, too, they're beautiful." she smiled.

"Yeah." Courfeyrac smiled, his brown eyes sparkling with everything good that happened that day. "Thanks for your help today." he said to her.

"Well...it's my job." she shrugged and they stopped walking.

"I don't want you to be our staff anymore, Ayisha." he said. "I want you to be my wife." His heart was pounding. It wasn't something they had talked about but their mutual fondness wasn't a secret to either of them...but still...was the matter that his father talked about. His mother may not approve either but after how close he came to death and then coming back to no father, he wasn't going to let anything take any happiness away from him. On the other hand...if she said 'no', one of them was going to have to leave the house. It would be too uncomfortable to stay in each others' company and Courfeyrac decided that he would be the one to leave if need be. He could go anywhere, if Ayisha left the house, she had nowhere to go. Well, she could get another job in another household but she would be starting at the bottom after working her way up for ten years. "Is there someone I should be asking...I mean, other than you?" he smiled.

"My family doesn't know where I am." she said. "Francois..." she stammered and held his hand. Oh God, it seemed like she was having a hard time answering. "I love you, you know I do..." she stroked his face. "...people talk." she said, not knowing how to put it.

"So let them talk." Courfeyrac shrugged. "I've spent the past two years sleeping with fleas and flea-ridden kids on a horsehair mattress...do you think I care what they're going to say?"

"No...not that." she searched for the words. "Some of my friends work for some of your friends, the people you go to school with..."

"Ah!" Courfeyrac finally caught on. "Ayisha..." he said and directed her to a small bench. "...sit, my leg is sore." he sat beside her. "Yes, my name is linked to many, ummm..." he tried to put it delicately. "But I promise you...you say 'yes', I will never stray." he said honestly. "I know people say that I've loved me a fair few but the truth is, I never loved any of them at all." he promised and kissed her softly. ''Ayisha, have I ever lied to you before?"

"Well... you did tell me you'd be okay and take care." She pointed to his cane.

"And...this will embarrass you?" He asked, wondering this was the problem.

"No-no." She said quickly. "I only meant that you were NOT okay for awhile and it could have been much worse.."

"Well, I dare say that if the barricade should arise again, I'd be pretty damn useless there so you have no worries there." He pointed out. ""Please..." he reached in his pocket and pulled out a diamond ring. "Ayisha?" he said and got a bit worried when she started crying.

"You..." she smiled. "...have had an answer to every worry I had." She said and held out her hand, almost disbelieving the feeling of the ring slipping on her finger before kissing him. "Have you ANY idea how long your mother has been waiting to hear this news?"

"Yes, she's been pretty anxious that I get married." He thought about her hiding her disappointment when they announced is engagement to Ayisha.

"Not JUST getting married." she laughed. "Every time we came back from a walk she would ask me 'did he ask you yet'?"

"Shit." He laughed to the sky. "You're kidding." He saw his mother coming out of the house, returning to her visit with Josette and called her over. It was only right that she know before the announcement was made.

"Did he ask you yet?" she asked Ayisha then looked at her hand. "Finally!"

"Mama!" Courfeyrac said. "You tricked me." He laughed as she kissed him.

"It's time for joy in this house again." She called the head of the staff over to make the official introduction then went and rounded the children up from play, lured them with dessert while Ayisha went to change out of her black maid's dress.

Even Courfeyrac had to stop and stare when she came back. The soft peach dress made her brown skin even more beautiful though the rosiness of her face was probably genuine.

"Oh?" Enjolras said and nudged Combeferre when the couple came to the doorway.

"Well, it's about time!" Grantaire said and toasted them even before the announcement was made.

As they gathered for congratulations, Courfeyrac explained that it wasn't going to be a big affair as his father wasn't around. They would have a civil service with a party at the house.

"The hell!" Enjolras jumped up and put his arm around him.

"No, really." Courfeyrac said "Ayisha has no family here, nobody to walk her down the aisle..."

"The hell!" Marcelle said and put her arm around her new daughter in law.

"All RIGHT!" Courfeyrac submitted then turned to his mother "...don't you ever let me hear you say that again, young lady."


	19. Society Climbing

**A/N - I have had a message about 'glorifying' Grantaire's addiction. It is not glorifying, things were different 175 years ago. Many rich people were alcoholic back then because they were bored. Grantaire has another reason to drink but, he's just perpetuating what he grew up with. His friends don't do more to help him because addiction wasn't understood then. His friends only see that abstinence destroys him. Anyway, thanks everyone for feedback - on with the show.**

The evening ended up going pretty late, as they had to celebrate the wonderful news. A few of the students did know about Ayisha and a fair bit about Courfeyrac's crush on her but they didn't really think much about it. Probably because he didn't mope around like Marius did so they didn't know that it was as serious.

It was such a beautiful evening, the staff lit torches around the table and the children chased fireflies and got sweaty and dirty. There would be an official engagement party in a few weeks, after Marcelle got word out, booked a fancier garden, bought herself the most beautiful new dress and made sure Ayisha got one, too. As they sat around on the rattan furniture, Courfeyrac smiled at his mother, he could see her wheels turning and knew that her mind was going a hundred directions all at once. He did wish his father was there to share it all but was content to be with his friends and as far as he was concerned, this was all they needed. However, it would rip his mother off of the one and only chance she would have to do this.

Eventually, the kids started picking at each other and fighting "just like the good old days" someone pointed out. Gavroche was marched off for a bath while the party wound down. The guests waited until Gavroche was finished and came back down to bid them all good night.

"I can hardly wait." Gavroche said, hugging around Enjolras' waist as he said good night.

"For what?" Enjolras bent down and kissed the top of his head.

"To pick up where you guys left off." he said and Enjolras closed his eyes. He hoped that Gavroche didn't think what they had done was easy. Not just the barricade part but grouping, staying AS a group, dealing with the bullshit of the opposers. One thing was for certain, Gavroche knew what it was like to BE the poor that they were fighting for. He, more than anyone had the right to carry that passion. "But I don't know if I'll move there."

"You'll get it done." Enjolras said. "From here or from down there, time will only tell. I dare say you'll need to find different headquarters. Even if there IS anything left of Musain, it won't last another ten years or so." It wasn't just that, he knew many of their friends were slaughtered in there. It would not be the same friendly, cozy albeit scabby place Gavroche would find comfort in.

"Did anyone have funerals?" Gavroche asked.

"Probably." Enjolras said. "I was in the hospital, we all were, we have no idea what happened." he said, resting his cheek on Gavroche's head. "Everyone..." he said around the circle of people saying goodbye "...next weekend I think we should gather to say goodbye to Joly, Jean Prouvaire, Feuilly and the others." he said. "Can everyone come to our place for...two o'clock?" he invited. "That's a good idea, Gavroche." he whispered. "Good night."

The footman had summoned the Enjolras' carriage and it now awaited the occupation of the family. Courfeyrac walked them out to the curb, holding still while Enjolras used his shoulder as a hand up to the first step. "Getting better there, brother." He noticed Enjolras moved with more ease on the stairs. Courfeyrac picked Minette and kissed her, passing her up to Enjolras before picking Nico up and doing the same thing. "A sleeping Peep!" He said and took her from a fairly drunken Grantaire (was there any other kind of Grantaire?) so he could get up the stairs. "YOU are getting better, too!" He laughed and handed her up to him.

"You too!" Combeferre pointed out that Courfeyrac lifted the children until Courfeyrac pointed out that he had the carriage to lean on. He climbed into their hired carriage and Courfeyrac passed the sleepy Fleur up to him.

"It's actually customary for the lady of the house to also see her guests off." Marcelle told Ayisha, having no problem with her own advancement from lady of the house to Matriarch. She gave the girl a nudge out the door and Ayisha went curbside to join her husband to be.

"Madame deCourfeyrac." Lucien said and tipped the back of her hand to his lips. "Merci, merci." He smiled and repeated their invitation. "You will come?"

"If it's okay with Francois that I wear black." She smiled but knew it would be no problem in the instance of a memorial.

"Wear midnight blue, that way he can't complain'." Josette whispered as she hugged her and thanked her for the evening.

The chorus of "goodnight" rang out as the carriages pulled away. "And SALUT!" Grantaire shouted and raised an imaginary glass as the carriage rounded the corner and was gone. Courfeyrac laughed, he would have to totally explain Grantaire to Ayisha. They would NEVER get him to quit drinking, they were resigned to that. It didn't keep him from studying or behaving himself in mixed company. He was good to the little girl who was a signature away from becoming his daughter and eventually would lead a successful business, they were sure. By the time the Enjolras' carriage pulled up to their house, all of the children were asleep. Grantaire climbed down first. "Give me both..." he reached for Peep and then reached for Minette.

"Georges, you're crazy." Josette said but realised a child on each hip kept him balanced enough to get him up the stairs. The nanny took Minette and he put Peep on his bed. She would need a bath, he didn't want to wake her but another staff member came in with night clothes and a basin.

Enjolras climbed down and reached for Nico to be passed down to him. "Sylvain!" Josette said in a whispered shout as, without thinking, he took a step away from the curb...he stayed on his feet! "Very good..." she said. "Now give him to Papa."

"Let me try." Enjolras said, shifting Nico from a cradle hold to a hip carry while Lucien walked beside him just in case. He made it to the front steps before he had to surrender the boy over to his father. The one last hurdle he would have to conquer was stairs. If he couldn't do that, he would probably need a cane just for stairs.

It was still early enough for the men to meet in the parlour for a drink. Enjolras honestly didn't remember this being such a ritual but he had been in a different mode than his father when he last lived there, neither considering the other as equal. Lucien had his high society friends and his son was disdainful of all of them. But now he liked finishing the night there. He would always fight for equality, they all would but, based on this night alone, they had to surrender to the fact that they were their father's sons. While they refused to let their privilege depend upon the labour of the poor, it would be through their wealth and influence that things were able to keep rolling. It was a quiet-ish parlour evening, each a bit lost in his own thoughts and Grantaire lost in his brandy, the hair on the back of his head in a sticky ponytail from Peep holding onto it earlier. There were no soggy children coming in to say goodnight and even Josette only popped in briefly. She was in a full linen apron, she had bathed the children and tucked them in. She bid the men goodnight.

"Great news about Courfeyrac and Ayisha..." Enjolras said.

"Don't go there, Sylvain." Lucien said.

"Don't make you say it?" Enjolras laughed, knowing his father played the race game, too.

"His father would have hit the floor."

"Well, he's gone and his mother hit the moon." Enjolras pointed out. "Have you ever seen her so happy since we got back? Don't start anything, Papa."

"I won't ever start anything." Lucien promised. "I will be cordial and polite..."

"That's all I ask." Enjolras said. "And...remember she is no longer the maid." They talked awhile about engagement presents and they decided they would hire a photographer that day to get an official engagement portrait of the couple. "They're doing amazing things now with pictures, new things every day."

Grantaire was tired, now in his olden days state as he went up to bed. Peep was fast asleep in his bed and he wondered when the weaning process should start. She couldn't sleep in his room forever. Courfeyrac's engagement made him realise, now that their focus was off the revolution, or at least being an active part in it, life was going to progress a bit more normally now. The house he and Peep would be moving to would be warm and roomy with no threats from outside, she needed to learn to sleep in her own room and it should start when there were people who could calm her fears and talk to her as he was still very choppy in sign language. He picked her up and took her to yet another bedroom down the hallway that Josette had told him to use for her and as he put her on the bed, she woke up. She sat up and reached around his neck, fussing a bit when he ducked out and picked a candle out of a sconce and came back into the room. "Look!" he pointed around the room. "You know this place..." he said. "You..." he pointed to her "...sleep here." he pointed to the bed. "I..." he pointed to himself "...sleep there." he pointed across the hallway and she shook her head. "Yes." he said, basically giving his first order as her father. "Look...come see." he invited her to jump off the bed, which she did anxiously, probably thinking she was going to go back to his bed. "See? I'm right there." he took her back to his room and they walked to her room where he put her back on the bed and she slid under the covers. She drew a quivering breath but she lay back on the pillow. She needed a doll or something to cuddle and hold at night if she got scared. He would get her one tomorrow. "Good girl." he smiled to see her settle into the bed. "I'll be right there." he promised and kissed her. "Okay?" he said and touched his nose and she did the same. Just as he got to the door she called him and he turned around to watch her sign something. "I'm sorry, Peep, we'll have to get that one tomorrow." he said then just did the same sign. That seemed to appease her. She lay down and he took the candle and left.

"Good morning, darling." Josette said as she passed her son in the hallway the next morning. "Good heavens!" she pointed to Grantaire's closed bedroom door and Enjolras smiled. It was good to hear the snoring again, it meant he was sleeping well.

"I'll show you how to flip him over but you don't have to do it." he said and went into the room, grabbed Grantaire's arm and leg closest to the wall and pulled him over onto his side. "Usually we put Peep here but she's gone." he said and stuffed a pillow to keep him from rolling over onto his back. "But it's not really necessary to do anything." he said quietly as they left him to sleep awhile longer. "We needed to shut him up at the cafe because the bedrooms were so close together, he would actually keep people awake." he explained and held out his arms when Peep came out of her bedroom fully dressed by the nanny.

"She's telling you she slept in her own bed." the new nanny said. "She wants to know when her Papa will be up."

"He's still sleeping." Enjolras said to her, making the usual sign, folding his hands beside his head and closing his eyes. "And you have to go to school." he pointed to her knowing that the teacher would be there shortly. "I suppose he should sit in on those, too." he realised that Grantaire needed to learn more sign language than he knew so he went back in there and Peep took the opportunity to scoot through the open door and jump up on the bed.

Grantaire had his familiar morning headache, life was returning to normal. He reached out and pulled Peep to him for a good morning kiss, keeping his eyes closed as Enjolras explained about how it would be a good idea for him to go to school. "Yeah, okay." Grantaire answered and knew he should sit in there as much as he could. He yawned and agreed to get out of bed as soon as they left him alone. "Enj..." he said after Peep left. "...do you think you could get me some brandy?" he asked. Enjolras would know that it was the only thing that could get him out of bed and functioning. He didn't start off getting wasted, that happened later on in the day but he would feel like shit until he had a drink.

Enjolras reached up and pulled a bell. "You lived in the cafe too long." He grinned as a staff member appeared. "Can you fill a decanter full of absinthe and bring it here?" He asked.

"Oui Monsieur" he said.

"By the time I got down the stairs and back up it'd be noon." Enjolras reminded Grantiare that for the time being, he faced stairs twice a day. In the morning and in the evening. Any other time he did stairs, it was only a few as the doctor came by every day to work on his back.

"You're doing better though. I saw you carrying Nico. Salut." He said as he toasted him with the glass of brandy as the pre-breakfast bell rang. Enjolras left so both of them could get dressed.

Grantaire sat at the table with Peep and the tutor. He was more interested in telling her all the things he wanted to so he paid attention for the lesson then asked the teacher to stay. It was probably all things they had said to her before but he wanted to look in her face to tell her. Thank God he'd had the brandy.

"Soon we're going to go to our own house." He told her. "So when you see us starting to pack up, I want you to know that you're coming with me this time, okay?" He said and she smiled. They would always keep their own sign for 'okay'. "I know you can hear a bit of sound..."

"I could hear before." She said and it stunned Grantaire. He'd had no idea she hadn't been born deaf but, in spite of her delicate size and stunted development, she was almost eight years old.

"Oh bless you, you're so tiny, we thought six or so. Did you get sick?" He asked and she nodded. "Your parents too?"

"No, just me and then I couldn't hear and mama cried but they took me to a hospital. They had to come get me after but left me in the gardens." Grantaire gave a silent gasp. It would be so easy to trace who she was. Any parent of hers would never be able to claim her back but a name, birthday and history was there at their fingertips. "I don't want to be with them." She shook her head. Obviously she had this discussion with someone else, the teacher or maybe Mme Courfeyrac.

"No-no Cheri..." he laughed. "No, you're not going anywhere that I'm not." He said. "What was your name?" He asked.

"I don't want that either." She shook her head. "I like Peep, it's what a little bird says ."

"It's all YOU said!" He told her. "You are named after my mother and sister and we can keep it that way."

"Can I meet them?"

"No m'chere." He said. "They moved away then they died. Victoire was like you though. Well, she may have ben able to hear a little better but couldn't speak. I'm sorry you can't meet them."

"Your Papa?" She asked and he shook his head. Even if it were possible he would never let him near her. "You're like me then." She said. "Only your Papa didn't leave you in a garden." She had no idea that a garden would have been a great place to be left instead of kept in a cold, grey house. He thought of the decor in there and knew that would have to be changed from "old man grey". "Where did you go?" She asked. "When you left me with the doctor's friends and Fleur? I was naughty there"

"She's his sister and she didn't say that, only that you were scared."

"I only wanted you." She said. "Where did you go?"

"Nowhere." Grantaire said. "You did. We had to stay. We wanted to make it so the people around there had a better life. So children like you...well, so there WOULDN'T be children like you. But it didn't work out."

"And you got sick and uncle Francois and got hurt?" She asked. "And..." she sighed. "There's going to be a party for some of them."

"A party of sorts." He nodded. "Can I ask you..." he said "...why..." he didn't know how to say it without her thinking he was complaining. "...why did you attach yourself to me?"

"Your blue eyes." She smiled. "And you put me on your knee. Nobody even looked at me for so long and then your blue eyes looked at me." It was all she could explain. It was hot the night the children arrived at the cafe but she remembered the cold of the winter and spring before it and his body had been so warm when he held her on his knee that night. Not just temperature but so friendly.

The teacher laughed at the next thing."What?" Grantaire asked as she and Peep laughed.

"She said M. Enjolras scared her at first. She knew he was a friend but he shouted so loud and looked mean."

Grantaire laughed and wanted to agree with her. "Serious, not mean." He told her. "But you're not scared of him now, right?" He asked and she shook her head. "He was just...stressed and then he had all of you to worry about."

"He did?" She asked. "He worried about us? I thought he only loved Nico."

"Oh God no." Grantaire shook his head. "You are so wrong." He felt like laughing. She had been scared of the captain but they would never have guessed.

"Shall we call him, Monsieur?" The teacher asked him and they located and got Enjolras in there.

"Seriously?" Enjolras asked when they relayed the information. "Peep, I'm so sorry." He kissed her forehead. "I'd never been around children before, I had NO idea what to do." He hugged her and picked her up, again not realising that he was taking steps with her in his arms. "You guys reminded me every day what we were fighting for."

"My name was Sylvie...like yours." She said. "But I don't want to use it." It was such a pretty name than Enjolras and Grantaire were both sorry that she didn't want it but then how much would they use it?

"One more thing..." Grantaire asked. "What did you say to me last night?"

The teacher asked her and Peep did the sign again. "She said 'good night, Papa'." Grantaire smiled and practiced the sign for good night. Vocabulary was finished, it was time for her math and Grantaire was anxious to get out of the house for a little while. He was sure the staff at the office was wondering just what they were supposed to do and what of the house? Would it give him memories or could he re-vamp it and raise Peep in it? And Peep! What of her? He had to get the papers signed, more desperate now that he knew she would have family.


	20. Fond Farewells

Enjolras was surprised to get an uninvited visit from Courfeyrac. Not that he wouldn't be welcome but each of them were trying to get into a new normal and, needless to say Courfeyrac had a lot of things on his mind. "Hey!" Courfeyrac said when he saw Enjolras coming down the stairs with about 90% mobility and speed. "Nobody will know pretty soon."

"Good to see you." Enjolras said, kissing his cheeks.

"Is 'Taire around?" He asked.

"He's setting his house up." Enjolras shook his head and they went to sit in the garden as the maid brought them coffee and some pastries.

"I want to go back." Courfeyrac said quickly.

"To..." Enjolras said and paled when he said the cafe.

"Not live there, I'm just not sleeping, I need to see it." He clarified. "I am going back, just wondering...hoping that you'll come along."

Enjolras took a deep breath and blew it out, nodding. They were going to have the service for the fallen in the morning. "Why don't we start there and come here?" He said. "Not everyone, just you, me, Grantaire and Combeferre." He said and scribbled a message to the doctor, giving it over to a staff member to courier it over to the other two. They talked awhile of happy things and happy times from the cafe, from before the cafe, stories of Joly, Feuilly, Bahorel, Jean Prouvaire and the others. They would never say it hadn't been worthwhile in the little lives they did save but would forever lament that they didn't accomplish what they had set out to do.

"You couldn't have done any more than you did, Enj." Courfeyrac said. "You led by example, never held back or delegated. Any force would be happy to have you in the lead." He said, "You, brother, did not FAIL Everyone was there voluntarily. You even gave them your blessing to leave any time they wanted." He pointed out and Enjolras nodded.

The next morning, Enjolras and Grantaire climbed into the carriage. They had sat up all night debating on whether or not to take the children. When they posed it to them, none of them wanted to see it. They also had to decide whether or not to wear their formals there. Would it be rubbing it in the face of the people left behind? No, it would not. They took a fellow student with them from a theological college, they would have a service for the people there. Gavroche came out from the house with Courfeyrac. His hair tied in a ponytail and his clothes pristine. They climbed into the carriage. "No kids?" Courfeyrac asked, Gavroche a bit disappointed.

"You'll see them later." Enjolras promised him and they rolled to Combeferre's flat.

"Bonjour Fleur." They said when she came out in her dark green dress.

"I told you." She said to Combeferre as he came to the carriage. "Gavroche is coming."

"Oh, alright." He said. "But you don't go anywhere without me." He said. The footman lifted her into the carriage and Combeferre followed her. Tight squeeze by now and Fleur sat on his lap.

As ever, the carriage stopped a few blocks from the slum and they walked in. It was obvious enough they were in fine clothes and the people still in rags. The people gathered around them, sad eyed, kissing them and mourning with them, which was amusing because they were throwing shit at them for taking the children a few months back. There were no hard feelings, the people were frustrated, didn't know what to do. Slowly they went up the staircase. They knew every creak. Without looking they were always able to tell how many people were coming up and even which stair they were on. Blood splattered on the wall but the bodies were gone. Who had died where? Jean Prouvere's mattress was still on the table, Minette's was under the table, there was a hole in it, it was covered with blood. Thank God they had not hidden the children there.

"Stay down there!" Combeferre hollered over the stairway when he heard the children "I'll get it." He said, going into the room he and Fleur had shared. The poor had been there, they had taken the medical equipment and dumped Fleur's treasure box. Combeferre scooped it all up and put the contents back in, getting it all and hoping that was all there was. By the time he got out into the common room, Courfeyrac was in Enjolras' arms, sobbing and Grantaire was rubbing his back. It was easy to tell who was the most sensitive one left in the bunch. A bit of survivor's guilt combined with the fact that they were going to be mourning their friends and he really hadn't had a chance to mourn his father. He went from hospital, to the elation of being home, seeing the children and Ayisha accepting his proposal. "What can we do for you, Courf?" Combeferre asked but Courfeyrac just shook his head.

"Probably nothing." He said and looked at the blood spattered walls. "Where do you think they took them?" He asked. "Pauper's graves? Did their families come for them?" They could only just 'suppose'. They only knew them from the cafe. Only Enjolras and Courfeyrac knew each other beforehand and it was just casual at that."

"Gavroche!" Enjolras hollered when he saw the blonde hair come up the stairs.

"I said..." Combeferre said but it was too late. He looked at the walls, the mattress under the table and Courfeyrac crumpled in Enjolras' arms and stood speechless. "...go downstairs."

"No." Gavroche said and walked over, wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac and stroking his hair the way Courfeyrac did for him when he was upset.

"Thanks Gav." Courfeyrac said.

Combeferre went back downstairs lest Fleur get the same idea. He handed the treasure box to her and she knelt down (yes, in her funeral clothes, she had seen the guys in their university clothes do that every day.) and dumped it on the sidewalk until she found the one thing that mattered. "That stupid card isn't in there is it?" He asked her sternly and saw it cast aside in the muck while she unfolded a piece of paper and smiled to read it. Everything else got left by the side of the road. She folded it back up and tucked it inside her stocking,obviously it was still to remain a secret treasure.

"It's really bad up there, isn't it?" She asked as she saw everyone coming back down the stairs, Gavroche with his arms around Courfeyrac's waist "helping" him walk back through the streets to the carriage. Combeferre nodded and held his hand out to her, brushing the dust off of her knees.

"No skipping today." He said as she started her usual lively steps. "Today we honour the others."

By the time they got back to the house, others had arrived, including the priest. "My Love." Ayisha said when she met Courfeyrac at the carriage. She had taken his cane while he climbed down and now handed it back to him.

"I'm okay." He said. "It's just...wow." he said.

"Sorry you went?" She asked.

"No." He said. "Sorry we didn't do this sooner."

A few family members of the fallen had been contacted but they all agreed that the four students should enter as 'family' as each family had had their own funerals already. This was for the men who had fought with them. Everyone stood as the priest talked and acknowledged them by name. At the mention of Jehan, Minette let out some sobs. Combeferre went over and picked her up, holding her in his arms, stroking her hair. "You are his Belle Fee." He whispered. "His beautiful fairy girl." By the end of the service, all of the children were upset and clinging to their respective 'fathers'. Peep didn't fully understand but she saw the adults crying and it upset her. She couldn't tell them that she was afraid that they were going to be split up again until it was over and they reassured her that she was not going to be separated. The day was somber but eventually the children played and the funny stories came out. The students met with the families of their fallen mates. Some of the names they recognised and others they didn't. They were just glad that they found some family members so they could see that the survivors did appreciate that they had died.

They could tell everyone was going to be okay...except Minette who lay on her bed in heavy tears.

"Do you want me to bring you something to eat?" Enjolras asked when he came to check on her.

"No I just want to be sad." She cried.

"You can be sad and eat." He said and lay down beside her.

"Did he cry when he died?" She asked.

"Nettie, I'm not going to tell you how he died, it was horrible but it was fast. If he had time to think of anything, it was probably you." He stroked her hair.

"I wish I could draw pictures." She cried. "I'd draw a picture of his face."

Enjolras smiled sadly. He still didn't have a lot of experience with children and had no idea what to say. He prayed for some kind of guidance from he poet...what would HE say to make her feel better? "When I close my eyes..." he said, propping his head in his hand. "I can see him like a picture." He closed his eyes. "Can you?" He prompted her to close her eyes and eventually he could see her smiling. "You can see him, can't you?"

"I can hear him reading and singing." She said.

"So you can have a picture of him any time you want." Enjolras said. He closed his eyes again and whispered to Jean Prouvaire "Thank you." He lay his head on the pillow next to her and was probably asleep before she was.


	21. Maison du Grantaire

**A/N - oopsie, I posted the wrong chapter. Sorry if you thought you were seeing things.**

After Peep finished her day's of school and Grantaire had rested awhile...and had another brandy, he was itching to get out of the house for awhile. He had Enjolras' carriage take him to the house he had grown up in. He stood at the gate, holding Peep's hand but unable to talk to her much. "You and me live here." he said pointing. He had sent word to the staff that he was going to be coming home in the next few days and a few staff members had been living there to keep the house fresh since the original housemaster passed away. He didn't know what it was going to look like in there but he could get anything changed he wanted to, his father had left a lot of money.

"Monsieur Grantaire." the valet came out to meet him. "I worked for your father, I look forward to working for you." he said, hoping his job was secure. He remembered the quiet boy with the black curly hair and bright blue eyes. He remembered having to keep his thoughts to himself as his former employer beat, belittled and berated the boy day after day. He gave a silent jubilant 'whoop' when the boy packed his bags and moved out and he lived for a few years in silent boredom serving only the one lonely drunken man. Today, he noticed that the first thing his new employer did was pour brandy from the decanter. He knew the look of someone who needed it and got a 'hit' when he drank it and groaned inwardly. Great, the rest of his career is going to be fetching drinks and calling cleaning staff to freshen up any room the man of the house had been in. "And, petit mademoiselle?" he asked.

"Oh, sorry." Grantaire said. "Margurite..." he stammered, realising that Claude might recognise the name. "...but we call her Peep." he smiled and slowly spelled C-l-a-u-d-e for her.

"One of the Musain Enfants?" Claude asked.

"Yes!" Grantaire said. "How did you know?"

"Oh, you're famous." he said. "Your father talked about you all the time."

"He did?" Grantaire asked.

"Yes sir, ummm...and he told us, well, I won't say so but he did keep us up to date." Claude explained. He would spare him the smack-talking his father did. "Mademoiselle Peep." he nodded to her. "Will you be wanting a nanny? There are some very good ones recommended."

"Well, she would have to know how to communicate with her. She already has a teacher, I can see if this lady is interested in full time live-in work. They get along well." he said so Claude would hold off on the nanny yet. What he most wanted to see was the rooms so he could see what he needed to buy for when Margurite came home.

"Monsieur Grantaire?" a lady said as she came out of the kitchen.

"Gabrielle?" he turned around and saw the woman who cooked the family's meals for all of this life. Now close to sixty, she had a grandmotherly look and he knew her cooking was good!

"It's good to have you home, Monsieur." she said.

"Monsieur Grantaire was my father." he smiled. "Please..." and he looked around at the staff "...it's just Georges. And this..." he said and introduced them to the little girl.

"Will you be moving back in?" Gabrielle asked and Grantaire nodded, finishing up the glass of brandy he had as all the staff's eyes were upon him. He would have to prove that, yes, he drank but he was a different kind of drunk than his father. "And the business?" she asked.

"I'm nowhere near running that." Grantaire said. "I can trust the ones who are there by the sound of it for the next couple of years." he could see, though that this was going to be the most excellent opportunity for practical hours in the upcoming years for himself, Enjolras and Courfeyrac. They would have some of the best lawyers in Paris as their mentors.

He hadn't noticed Peep wandering away and exploring until she came back into the sitting room carrying something over to him. "It's a top." he said to her, improvising a sign and showed her how to wind it up and spin it. "No, it wasn't mine, it was..." he looked towards the door off to the side of the sitting room. Victoire stayed in that room during the day so that she was close but out of the way and Grantaire found himself being pulled towards it by the hand. "...let's go." he said and followed her to the room. Margurite went into the room and spun a pirouette in the middle of the room as she saw for the second time in a moment the beautiful furniture, matching curtains and bedding, shelves of dolls and various wooden games. Some of them had been Grantaire's but most were bought for Victoire and not used. "Ah!" Grantaire smiled and the little girl looked at him. "Oui, it's all yours." he said and motioned towards it all. As she dove in, unable to decide which toy to play with so she just pulled them all over the place, Grantaire went back into the sitting room...surprised to see that the staff had all remained where they were when he followed Peep out of the room. Dismissing staff - this was going to take some getting used to.

"Is there anything we can do for you, Monsieur?" Claude asked.

"Yeah..." Grantaire said. "...open the shades and let some light in, it's fucking cold in here. And please, it's not going to be as formal here as before. If I forget to tell you 'that is all' kind of thing, don't feel you have to stay." he explained. "I have been living away from all of this for a few years." he pointed out. Between dorms and then the cafe, he had been away for five years and even when he did live there, it was his father's house.

"Would you keep this room for her, Monsieur?" the maid asked.

"Oui...ummm..." he stammered. He had never met this maid. They had an older one when he moved out who either retired or died, he wasn't sure.

"Nicolette, monsieur." she said.

"Nicolette." Grantaire repeated. "You look familiar." he said.

"I attended a few meetings at the cafe." she said. "I'm afraid I'm one of those who ran like hell...pardon..." she said, excusing her language "...who fled when M. Enjolras invited us to."

Grantiare nodded, no hard feelings. "Thank you for the support you did give, every little bit helped."

"May I ask?" she asked about who lived and who died and he gave her the rundown. "Anyway, yes, keep that room for her and maybe another in one of the others by the master room, she can decide where she wants to sleep." he told them. There were more rooms than they could possibly use on the upper floor and the staff quarters were on the main floor. He looked up the stairway. He would have to go up there eventually, God he hated that staircase.

For all of his childhood, Georges remembered getting home from school and standing at the foot of the staircase while his dad stood...about half way up the staircase and did nothing but make him feel like shit. Whether it was just to shout insults in a drunken rage or to accuse him of some imaginary misdoing. He didn't know that his father was a coward and HAD to be half way up the staircase so that he felt more powerful. Now, from the bottom of the staircase, Grantaire looked to the fireplace, the poker and a sheet of marble beside it. He felt sick to his stomach and remembered being summoned there, as a child to kneel on the marble - often with rocks on it or to stand on the poker pulled from the fire. His father always made sure it was hot enough to burn but not profoundly. Grantaire saw the wallpaper that he had to stare at as he knelt or stood in punishment...for doing nothing. As a child he often had to stand long enough that he wet his pants, as a youth, it didn't matter anymore because chances were he was already drunk.

He climbed up a few stairs and looked down onto the little bedroom that Peep was playing in. That was where his father had pulled Victoire from the last time he had seen her. He could see the ghosts of it happening, then shook his head and saw that it was the shadows of Peep running back and forth across the room and back as she checked everything out, so happy making sounds as she played. What was it that Victoire could possibly have done that would ever make it okay to round her up and send her away? Then again, what was it that a seven year old boy could have done that would make it okay to kneel him on marble for hours at a time? He let himself turn and walk upstairs, looking in the various rooms.

Things had changed in a few years. He pulled a door open and for the first time, possibly in his life he thanked his father. He had a water closet installed. Well, it was the most basic, you bailed a bucket into the toilet to wash it down but thank GOD there'd be no going outside at night! Every trip Grantaire had to take in the dark improved the chances of him passing out half way back to bed. This was not even ten steps from his bedroom door. Not too far for Peep either. He stood outside the door to the master bedroom and took a deep breath. No, nothing ever happened in there but he always dreaded the moment every morning when the door would open. While his father was in there, he was safe. Nothing could happen. No shouting, no pain, it was as though he didn't have a father.

Just as he figured, the room was draped in coldness. It wasn't like he wanted it decked out like a nursery but even the bleak grey of the bedding at the cafe wasn't as bad as the greyness and coldness of the master bedroom in the house. He looked in the closet. The suits were all the same, no variety of colour or style, they all just stank of his father's sweat and tobacco. Grantaire went through the jewelry armoire, fine gold cuff links and tie pins. A few grand pocket watches, some chains and rings. He found the ring his father earned upon his graduation and slipped it on his finger. Some day. He had no use for that particular one, however, he would earn his own. This one, he would sell. He reached on the wall and rang a servant's bell.

"Empty this closet, please." he told him. "I don't really care what you do with the clothes but...have a tailor here and someone who specialises in children's clothing too." he said and the servant took his orders. "...please." he added at the end, something that the staff wouldn't have heard much under their last employer.

"Oui Monsieur." he said. "How many dining tonight? I would like to inform Gabrielle."

"Just two and Gabrielle can make whatever she wants, I know she can't go wrong." he said and continued to poke through the wardrobes. "Oh..yes, that will be all, thank you." he dismissed the staff. Now, it was time to go across the hallway and into the room he shared with his sister as a child and later occupied by him alone. The closets were empty, he had taken his stuff with him when he left but the furniture was still there. The bed that had been Victoire's wasn't definitively a girl's bed - not like the canopy one in the downstairs nursery. He had a bit of thinking to do. This room was not a happy one. While his room was the one place that nobody harmed him or berated him, it was also the one place that nobody acknowledged him. Hearing tales of his friends as children who had been tucked in, read to, maybe have a lamp burning beside them until they fell asleep and seeing how bedtime went at the cafe and at Enjolras' house brought him into awareness. He stepped across the room and drew the curtains aside.

How come he didn't know about the view out that window? It was beautiful. For the first of it, he wouldn't have been able to reach it but as a youth and young adult he could have, yet he didn't. Had he never looked out his bedroom window down to the street scene below? There was a beautiful park just blocks from their house, did he know that? Or had the world been just various shades of back and white and grey? There was green a way back in his memory but that ended when he was very young. He hadn't realised how miserable he had been. It all seemed so normal back then.

He shook his head quickly, it wasn't worth mourning the past. What broke his gaze out the window? The squeals of delight from downstairs, coming closer now until he felt something plow full force into his lower back and arms wrap around...or almost around his waist.

'This is yours, too." He turned and told her, waving around the room. "Yes, that, too." He nodded about the downstairs room. "Mine is here." He took her across the way.

"Those aren't your clothes." She said, looking at the closet.

"No, they were my Papa's." He regretted getting rid of the expensive suits, they would fit, too but they stunk of him. He would only keep the gold. They explored the rest of the upstairs together. The office kind of upset him, he used to have to sit in there and "don't touch anything" if his father was 'entertaining' upstairs. He was, however allowed to have wine in there so that's all he did, sat in there and drank wine. On the desk was a press for pamphlets. Shit...they could have used that had he known.

"Papa?" Peep asked. "Can we get a dog?"

"We'll see." He said as the dinner bell rang. "Nothing formal unless we have formal company." He told the staff. He knew the house staff wouldn't relax too much the elaborate place settings, endless cutlery and staff standing by wasn't what he was used to, now. They would be amazed, maybe appalled to hear about them all crowded around the table that would become Jean Prouvare's bed in a few hours, grabbing for things while the boys belched and farted and the students smacked heads and sent them away from the table.

"Can we have friends over?" She asked,

"Ohyes!" He said. "This..." he promised her "...will be the best house you or I have ever lived in."


	22. Maison du Courfeyrac

**A/N - this is mostly conversation but oh well. A bit of a time jump, everyone is a year older. It is mid-summer.**

Gavroche was well settled into school and caught up to only a year behind his age, thanks to the schooling he got from the students at the cafe. He was still passionate about the cause that had brought everyone together and got a but frustrated that the other kids at school weren't.

"They have no reason to be Gav." Courfeyrac said one night as Gavroche came home despairing that nobody even listened to him. "You are because you have seen it first hand, they haven't. I know we did..." he added, knowing Gavroche would say that. He reminded Gavroche that they were university students and even then it was a relatively small gathering.

"You were strong though." Gavroche said. "I don't know if we can be anyway."

"You will. We had Enjolras and he's the one who lit the flame." Courfeyrac praised their captain.

"We need to find someone like him." Gavroche said.

"You need to BE someone like him, Souris." Courfeyrac said. "But not yet. I'm sure at age thirteen, Enjolras wasn't even aware of what was going on. You have that advantage." He pointed out. "And that example." He pointed out. "Now what's on your mind?" He asked when the boy fell silent.

"This." He looked around, motioning at the room he sat in, the furniture he was on, his clothes, Courfeyrac's clothes.

"Feeling guilty?" Courfeyrac asked.

"I think so." Gavroche said.

"It's not what you have and have not." Courfeyrac said. "We all had this too, don't forget. You can't get rid of it, even Grantaire claimed back what was his." He pointed out and nodded when Gavroche said he was happy for him "it's what you do with it. Share it any way you can. We never went hungry, cold or sick at the cafe, right?" He asked. "But on the other hand we didn't come back to this at the end of each day, we stayed and lived it all with you, right?"

"If I went back there some day, would you be mad?" Gavroche asked.

"No." Courfeyrac said. "I'd fret and wish you wouldn't and all those things Papa felt that I didn't understand at the time but I will always be proud, as long as you stand up for what you believe in."

"You think Papa was proud of you?" Gavroche asked.

"Mama said so." Courfeyrac shrugged.

"Mostly I heard him worry." Gavroche said.

"So I've heard." Courfeyrac said. "You better get dressed and ready." He told him, he said and flipped Gavroche's messy ponytail with his fingers. He hadn't cut his hair since he moved to the house a year ago. It was the little bit of 'rebel' he could have at his age, as his clothing had to reflect a wholesome image at school. Not that he would have gone back to his filthy blue jacket even if it hadn't been discarded.

"M. Enjolras." The valet announced from the doorway and Courfeyrac got up, smiling as his best friend and best MAN came into the room.

"Look at you all pretty." Enjolras said to him, brushing his clothes for him and straightening his tie. "Nervous?"

"Uh YEAH." Courfeyrac said.

''Well, you got yourself into this." He joked. ""And I can't believe you've been able to...abstain for almost a year." He continued and Courfeyrac whistled. "I thought half the girls at school were going to go into deep depression."

"STOP IT!" Courfeyrac said, taking the clothing brush and brushing the dust off of Enjolras' sleeve. "I told you *I* was wearing maroon." He said.

"I've got a grey jacket in the carriage, this is just old for traveling." Enjolras said.

"Sylvain Enjolras HAS no old clothes." Courfeyrac seemed shocked. "Besides, Ayisha is wearing grey."

"I doubt anyone will get us mixed up." Enjolras said.. "Isn't it about time you gave this thing up?" He pulled Courfeyrac's cane from beside the chair.

"Today, mon frere is not the day I need to show my ability to MAYBE take a dozen steps without it."

"I mean THIS particular one." Enjolras said. He screwed off the curved handle from the top of it and replaced it with a mahogany ball one. "Shitty wedding gift, I know but it looks dressier. Maybe use our residence in Toulon for a couple of weeks' honeymoon too." He said. "Staff are expecting you in two days."

"It's perfect, Enj. Thank you." Courfeyrac laughed and kissed his friend. The valet brought him a traveling cape and draped it over Courfeyrac's shoulders, handing him his top hat.

At the altar, he nervously waited with Enjolras for his bride to be led in. Due to the lack of family on Ayisha's side, there was only one attendant for each of them and Courfeyrac had a hard time choosing which friend should be up there with him. He was ready to have a cousin up there so nobody would feel put out but in the end, who could blame him for choosing his captain? He looked at Combeferre, looking rather plain without the emerald eyed beauty, who would be walking two steps ahead of the bride but first came the golden haired fairy girl with a basket of flowers. He scanned the guests and looked at his mother, dabbing her eyes with a hankie. God she had endured so much in the past few years. First he put her through such worry, then his father's brief illness and she became a widow with very little preparation. She took on Gavroche with no question and with the addition of Ayisha to the family's table, she considered the family complete. Now it was all just going to be finalised. It took everything Courfeyrac had to keep from getting weepy. She was so strong. He looked in the row behind her and winked at Peep, sitting next to the man she had legal rights to call Papa. The two of them spoke very fluently now and the rest of their circle of friend didn't do too badly either - especially Marcelle who never stopped pining for a daughter.

Others in the crowd included fellow students and some professors from the university, as all of them had already put in another half term and would be starting practical in the fall as they continued their studies.

Everyone else's faces faded out of sight when they all stood to face the bride coming up the aisle. She and her mother said her dress was grey but they chose the wrong description. Somewhere between silver and pewter and the finest silk money could buy. Not a lot of pouffe but enough to make her look like an angel. Soon he would be lifting the veil his mother had worn for her own wedding to see the most beautiful face he had ever seen. His thoughts flashed back to the first time he had seen her serving them. She was just a child...so was he. He would never, in his wildest dreams figure this was going to be their fate. As the years rolled on, it looked a little more likely and as he was in the hospital recovering he was certain this was what he wanted.

It took awhile for her to get used to being treated as the lady of the house. She took teasing from the other servants but disdain from only one of them, who was sent packing when it was discovered her meanness to the future Madame Courfeyrac. By now, however she was sure of herself and they had hired her on how to behave in social circles and meeting people of various ranks. She was used to serving, to say 'oui monsieur', 'no monsieur' and keeping her eyes and ears closed to anything that was going on around her. Staring at the floor, moving almost invisibly and acting cheerful when she was dog-tired. Through the lace of her mother-in-law's veil she could see the familiar faces of people who figured Monsieur Francois Courfeyrac to be one of the luckiest men in the world. There were some who saw only the colour of her skin and thought in horror what the colour of their children would be, but they kept their mouths shut. Lucien Enjolras smiled politely as she walked by him. She wanted to kiss every one of them.

Finally, she was before her dark haired prince with the eyes that seemed to be in a perpetual state of happiness, in spite of everything he had gone through. "You look beautiful" he whispered as he lifted back the veil and saw the jewels in her hair, another gift from her new mother in law. They turned to face the priest.

God he wished his father was there. Well, he WAS there but he wanted him beside his mother, even though he probably wouldn't have "approved" and may have even asked his son to reconsider (not that he would have) but he had treated Ayisha differently from the others once he realised his son was sweet on her. The vows went by in a blur, everything did, in spite of his mother insisting on a full mass, he could see Grantaire starting to get a bit twitchy. He wouldn't have had a shot in a few hours so the priest better hurry up or he'd be in no shape to give the toast. He decided that Grantaire would give the toast to the groom. By that time of day, there was no telling what shape he'd be in and what he'd say! "Mesdames et Messieurs..." the priest said and the couple turned to face the crowd. "I introduce to you Monsieur et Madame Francois deCourfeyrac."

At the social, Ayisha finally got to kiss all of Courfeyrac's friends. Everyone got a kiss but the students got big hugs, too. Gavroche was getting used to taking second place to his new sister in law. It was a bit lonely at first but he was making friends at school and other families - and learning to speak properly, though his street language was the one he spoke in his head and to the other kids he had lived at the cafe with. Girls? Well, they were starting to get prettier and they all loved his ponytail and smile but he was going to do like Courfeyrac, make no decisions until he saw what his future was going to be.

He could never offer any girl half of what Courfeyrac had to offer but he knew he would at least have a job, something he wouldn't have had - at least an honourable one had he not left the slums. Maybe he would work in an inn like his father, but a nice one. In the country, where rich people stayed on holidays like the one they went to at Christmas time. Could he stay away from the city that long? He did love the city and it would be hard not seeing his big brother and mama for months at a time.

"Gavroche!" Grantaire said and held up a glass of cognac to invite him for a drink.

"Not on your life." Gavroche said, remembering the sip he had taken out of Courfeyrac's glass all that time ago. That, and seeing what it did to Grantaire would be enough to keep him from trying it for ages to come.

"What are you going to toast with?" Grantaire asked and Gavroche got a glass of wine. "Mesdames et Messieurs!" Grantaire stood and looked at Courfeyrac suddenly almost lost for words. "It's no mystery what we have been through together but only a few people really understand. We didn't meet until a few years ago but you can't say we didn't grow up together because we grew more in those years than is possible. You taught me love and compassion, trust, security and unconditional friendship. Forever I will love you, I am so proud to be your friend and proud of who I see here today. To the groom - Salut!" He toasted and the crowd followed.

Courfeyrac squeezed his eyes closed tight but the tears slipped out anyway. "Thanks, 'Taire." he managed to rasp out. "I love you too. Forever." he returned the salute to his friend and then to the rest of the guests.

To ensure that the toast to the bride was done with more class and less joshing around, they asked Combeferre to give that one. It would only have been better had Jean Prouvaire written or presented it. Ayisha did a lot of blushing and hiding her head in her hands as he teased her and said sweet things about her and Courfeyrac but it was with nothing but love.

There was a surprise for the four remaining Amis - courtesy of Marcelle. After the photo was taken of the head couple, Ayisha left the chair she had been seated in and the four men had a picture taken of them. It was the one and only time a photograph captured them.

It would have been interesting, had there been a photo of them at the beginning of their crusade. Almost mid-way through university, high hopes, high ideals, wide-eyed and ready to change the world. Perhaps they looked a bit weary now. Not old and bent but they had been through and seen more than they thought they would. It was time to rest, to finish school and continue to do good from behind a desk, in a courtroom or in a hospital somewhere.

The coachman arrived to take the couple to the train station. Enjolras held a travel cloak open for Courfeyrac and Marcelle, having helped Ayisha get dressed more suitable for travel wrapped a cloak around her.

"Mama..." Courfeyrac smiled and hugged and kissed his mother. "...thank you for everything."

"You're my only son." she smiled through her tears.

"Not just today..." he laughed. "...for everything. Take care of Gavroche, he's going to be lonely for the next couple of weeks."

"We'll be fine." she promised. "We may take a holiday of our own before Gavroche has to start school again."


	23. Maison de Combeferre

The Combeferre residence was smaller than the rest, as the medical students kept their parents' money for school. They cooked for themselves and had a cleaning lady once a week. Fleur's friends went to public school so that's where she went. Her uniform was light blue, not her best colour but she couldn't believe she was actually going to school in uniform.

When she lived in the slums, she could see the children going to school in their uniforms. They weren't even rich kids but they could go to school. She could have gone to the public school but was never confident enough to grace the doorway.

That was what made "Ecole du Musain" special to her. They didn't have uniform but she eagerly absorbed everything the students taught her. They were pretty good, too considering none of them were teachers. They taught everyone the same thing, too. There was no syllabus and they didn't really know how old the kids were anyway. As it turned out, there wasn't anything extra Fleur needed to be taught to start school and continue from there. Anyone knowing her history would be surprised at her reading but Enjolras had pushed it to the point where they couldn't stand him some days. Only Peep acquired minimal reading skills because they just couldn't figure out how to teach her anything but nouns by showing pictures or examples, the rest of the kids excelled in reading and did fairly well in maths thanks to the doctors. It was nobody's surprise that they were all pretty up on current events.

One of Fleur's favourite things to do in the evenings was help her brother and sister study. She would quiz them, barely understanding what she was reading but she would retain some of the residue. She poured over (and giggled at) the anatomy books and the part about birthing made her vow she never wanted to do that. By no means a genius for her age, it lit a spark and she wanted to follow in their footsteps. It wouldn't be possible but Combeferre was still very much interested in treating in the slums. Not full time but maybe once or twice a week and, just like the good old days, he would need an assistant. She had already learned how to wrap bandages, apply ointments and check a sleeping person for fever, even give medicines to a child without waking him or her up. She would be excellent in triage if she were still around when he started his practice.

But when she wasn't doing that, her thing was drawing. It started with her just writing words and dressing them up with flowers and designs but it graduated to both drawing objects or abstracts. As ever, a lot of flowers or spring floral colours when she could get her hands on paints or crayons.

She spoke a very rough version of street dialect. It was almost as though French wasn't her mother tongue and with her revelation at the 'adoption frenzy' that her parents were Greek, it was entirely possible, though she couldn't understand Greek at all. Perhaps a mixture, maybe a Greek sailor or merchant passed by. Her language earned her some teasing and penalties in her grammar classes, a bit of frustration but Combeferre was always there to remind her of everything she HAD come through that they didn't know about. The school probably wondered why she spoke like that yet her brother and sister were well spoken but they never asked.

When she came home with a tearstained face, Combeferre knew something was up. This was the girl who didn't WALK anywhere. She either ran or skipped and always stopped in the small parlour to say hello before changing out of her uniform into her house dress. Today, she was a blaze of uniform through the parlour to her room, leaving the brother and sister to look at each other and ask "what the hell was that?" If there was anything they had learned is that any bad mood the girl had blew over quickly. Slow to arise, quick to abate so they just left her in her room for awhile until they heard her sobbing. "Fleur?" Combeferre said, pushing the door open. "You want to come out and talk?"

"No, I think I just want to be sad." She cried.

"You can do both, Cheri. You can talk and be sad.

"I can't do anything right." She cried, clutching a book to her chest.

"Let me see." He took hold of the book and gently pulled until she released it. "They're beautiful, Fleur." He said, looking as her pictures then saw the teacher's comment. "What does that mean...I still can't see you?"

"We had to..." her voice was cut with gasps and quivers as he sat down beside her and smoothed her sweaty hair back and Danielle brought her some fruit juice. "...they said draw yourself happy, sad, mad and tired. I just drew how they feel." She cried. "I drew the feelings."

"I hear people don't really understand abstracts except for the person who draw them." He tried to comfort her. "Did she ask you to put yourself in the picture?" He asked.

"I did." She said.

"Did you paint over it?" Danielle asked.

"No, she took it away so I drew these." Fleur said.

That didn't sound like any teacher Fleur had talked about. She was good with all of her teachers except for the language arts one but that was tough love. "Is this a new teacher?" He asked and she shook her head. That was what hurt worst. "Well, that doesn't make sense. I mean, maybe this." He pointed to the ones in his hand "Because this is great but not what she asked you to do but..." he couldn't figure it out but it was torturing Fleur. She wasn't the dramatic type but she was sobbing at the moment.

He knew teachers stayed late to mark papers at the school so they didn't have to deal with the darkness in their own homes. "You want to come with me?" He asked, pulling his jacket on and tidying up his tie. She didn't but she felt like he had only worded his request in the form of a question.

Danielle straightened up Fleur's hair and changed her into a dress for outdoors, washed her face and sent her back to school with her brother. While they were gone, she pressed out the water colors in between two pieces of wood to save for her.

"Bonjour Madame..." he paused "...Prefontaine." he nooded when she gave her name. "I'm Yvan Combeferre, Fleur's brother."

"Fleur?" The teacher asked, confused.

"They call me Daphne here, Frere.." she sighed and Combeferre guessed that was the first of the problems, perhaps it was a clash.

"You are a girl of mysteries." The teacher said to Fleur, obviously very fond of the girl but doing a double take of this golden-haired man, the brother of the raven haired girl.

"We're just here to...discuss her art project." He said, taking the chair he was offered. "It upset her and I don't really understand the comment." He regretted not bringing them. "I mean, yes it wasn't the assignment but she said you took away the ones she drew of herself."

"It wasn't her." The teacher said. "In the picture, she didn't draw herself. She never draws herself or writes her own name, it's always someone else." She pulled some pages out of a box and handed them to the man. "Well, I guess it IS hers, I didn't know about her nickname."

Combeferre looked at the pictures. They were pretty much the same as the abstracts but there was a girl in the picture..but it wasn't her. "Why..." he asked Fleur "...did you draw Minette in your pictures?"

"I don't know who it is but ALL of her people have yellow hair. Daphne..." the teacher said and Fleur winced. "...you don't have yellow hair." She said. "And even without the hair, this isn't your face."

"No...it's not..." Combeferre "...but I assure you it's a perfect picture of the person IN the picture." He said as though very distracted, nodding when the teacher asked if the rest of the family was fair haired.

"No..." Fleur said. "Freres Georges and Francois aren't." She argued.

"Ah..." Combeferre said. "She lived with...extended family for awhile..."

"More brothers?" The teacher tried to untangle the web that was familie Combeferre.

"Uncles, more like. And this is her cousin..." he pointed to the picture of Minette "...but I don't understand, Fleur..." he said to her. "We'll figure it out at home." He said. The rest of the discussion was NOT what he wanted to get into in front of a stranger.

"Are these them perhaps?" The teacher pulled out the papers and Fleur hit the ceiling. "I told you I was going to meet with him, Daphne." The teacher said.

"Go outside..." Combeferre told Fleur, trying to console her. He had to think of good lies and he couldn't think with the racket she produced.

"Give me them." Fleur pointed to the pictures. "...please...please let me have them..." she begged as he gently shoved her out the door and pointed to a bench in the hallway then slipped back into the classroom. He took the pictures from the teacher.

"Oh my..." he whispered. "Yes, yes these are them." He flipped through. The names were decorated under the pictures and the drawing was beautiful. His breath stopped for a moment when he saw the picture of Jean Prouvaire sitting in his chair reading to Minette on his lap. She captured the intense look in Enjolras' face as he pointed to an open book with Nico reading, the friendly familiarity of Courfeyrac and Gavroche and Grantaire with Peep on his lap. Then the picture of himself treating a skinned knee. "Isn't that a good drawing?" He held up the picture of himself beside his face. "I can bring the others if you want to see them.. Well, most of them." he shrugged. "No, it's not according the to assignment but you have to admit, the drawings are good." he just had to figure out why she would draw Minette in her pictures. He took a deep breath, seeing that the teacher wasn't going to budge and relaxed in his chair.

"Fleur is...that is Daphne was abandoned and adopted by our parents when they were quite aged. They're not around any longer but my sister and I are raising her. She lived on the streets until we couldn't stay where we were any longer..."

"Where were you?" the teacher asked. "In the slums?" she gasped. "In the Rebellion? She was there for THAT?"

"No, she was with my sister, I was there for it." he pulled his hair aside and showed her the scar from the blow he took to the head. "She lost her parents, she lost my parents she thought she lost me..." he said. "The people she drew there were the ones who stayed with us. The little girl she drew is one of the children and I don't know why." he shrugged. "Please..." he said, resorting to begging for the pictures that Fleur drew be good enough to call the project complete. "I know that wasn't the point but trust me, they're excellent pictures." he said again and got up. "May I?' he held his hand out for them. There was something in his look, his voice, or maybe the teacher realised they had been through enough and she handed them over.

He stepped out of the classroom and was surprised to see Fleur sitting on the bench where he left her. He held his hand out for her to take and told her that she may be getting her mark for it afterall and showed her that he got all of the pictures of the Amis.

"Those were for Christmas." she cried bitterly. "I didn't want anyone to see them until then."

"I won't tell." he promised. "Fleur...they're beautiful." he said. "Don't cry."

Once back at the house, she calmed down about the pictures but she still went to her room and cried. She had a lot of tears, he had never seen her cry so much in the whole time he knew her.

"Mon Fleur?" he said, coming into her room. "Belle...tell me what's wrong. Why did you draw Minette instead of yourself?" he bent down so she could repeat what he thought she said. "You want yellow hair?" he asked. "Well...you'd look odd with it. You have such beautiful black hair."

"But I look like Minette otherwise?" she asked.

"No...not at all." he shook his head. "Fleur?" Combeferre asked. "You haven't seen yourself before?" He was amazed but realised there were no mirrors in the cafe, not even for shaving, which made it tricky and made more sense that they would go for a formal shave when they needed it. He realised, the few mirrors in the house were out of her reach and she was used to not looking into them so she didn't really miss them. He held it down for her to see. "You haven't seen your face?"

"Not for a long time, not with these teeth." She said, inspecting her front teeth. "My last ones were black."

The brother and sister exchanged a look. She had her permanent teeth for around four years, was it possible? Did she just not think there was any need to look in them?

"I didn't think I needed to." She said as though she was reading their thoughts. "I knew what I looked like, or I thought I did." She shrugged. "My hair." She said feeling her thick black waves. "I didn't look like anyone else there...my eyes." She got closer to examine her face.

"You didn't know how pretty you were?" The doctor asked.

"I only knew how different." She said. "Do I look like Soeur Ayisha?" She asked.

"In the summer, yes." Combeferre laughed. "The rest of us turn various shades of red, you go like a loaf of fresh bread." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "You think I called you Fleur because of the flowers?" He asked and shook his head. "It was because you are as pretty as those flowers." He pushed her hand away from her eye that she was poking at. Nobody else had green eyes. Grantaire's were that clear blue, almost transparent, Peep's were dark brown. Courfeyrac's were almost black and everyone was fair and blue eyed. It wasn't something she got teased at in school but until that point, she thought the only difference was her hair colour.

She was still teary when she went to bed. It had been an upsetting day and spending so much time upset and in tears was exhausting. "I wanted to see your face when you looked at your picture at Christmas time." she said as he was tucking her in.

"I'm sorry you didn't see my face when I was looking at them." he said, regretting having sent her from the room. "I'm just still..." how did he word this? "...everyone else got his kid in there and mine..." he paused "...you didn't know what you look like." he finished his own sentence. "Now that you know, there is still a lot of time before Christmas, could you draw one with both of us?" he requested. "Everyone'll love theirs, too. Danielle is pressing them so that they will stay fresh."

"How come we don't see them anymore?" she asked. She knew Enjolrases and Courfeyracs got together and for the time being that included the Grantaires. "When school is out?" she begged. "I just miss them so much." she cried.

Mon Dieu! Another thing he hadn't thought of. He saw the others all the time. Either on campus or afterwards when they studied or went to the cafe before heading for home. They still talked of revolution though they weren't actively involved anymore. They exchanged news about the children and it was obvious that Gavroche, Nico, Peep and Minette saw each other regularly. They asked about Fleur all the time but he never made any effort to getting them together. He felt like one of the most selfish people in the world. "This weekend." he said quickly, hoping at least one of the children would be able to come over. The house was small but if the weather was nice, there was room in the garden. "And I'm sorry, Fleur. I'll be more careful in the future."


	24. Maison de Enjolras

**A/N - hope everyone is still enjoying this series.**

Minette and Nico had the immense advantage to being the children of an older couple. Lucien and Josette now saw the 'errors' they had made raising their son. Thankfully, he grew up to be everything they had hoped for anyway. But just based on the things that Enjolras had said, they changed some of their ways to make the home more child-friendly.

Running in the house...still frowned upon, not punishable by sitting on the chesterfield in the parlour until boredom drove you into comatose state like their big brother Sylvain had to do. Nor did they have to go back to where they started running and show that they could walk nicely.

Having friends over...far more frequently and not limited to playing quietly with your friends. Again, running was frowned upon but the second time 'round parents grinned and bore it. Even their son was ready to tell them off sometimes for behaving like monkeys until he realised, his biggest problem was that he was jealous of them. That was the same thing that got him joining them in the park to kick a ball around with Nico and didn't stop him from chasing a squealing Minette around the house to break any tension he had from studying. Having Lucien and Josette as parents relieved him of his former status over the kids and turned Enjolras from their father figure to an older brother. With the revolution and rebellion behind him, Enjolras put all of his focus on studying so it was surprising that he was more relaxed. The children were very much younger siblings who played with him but also pissed him off. The neighbours were somewhat surprised to see the children there to begin with but then there were instances where Nico came running out the front door, down the steps and up the street with Enjolras chasing behind him. Had it not been for getting shot in the back and having a weaker spine base, he probably could have kept up with him. Not to mention, even if he DID catch up to the wily teen, what was he going to do with him? As annoyed as he was, it wasn't like he was going to thump on him. Generally the problem was that Nico had stolen something or playfully punched at Enjolras at a moment he wasn't feeling like being picked on.

The house became a home. Paper-wad fights weren't unheard of after a particularly painful essay-writing day resulted in a few dozen rough drafts that had been scrunched up and tossed towards the garbage can. The children gathered them up and threw them at Enjolras, who HAD to return them, full force to the children. He left his study and sought them out, hiding behind lush sofas and big oak doors. "Hey! No fair, you know I can't run up stairs easily!" he hollered as they ganged up and bombarded him from above. "Maaaaaaaaaam!" he shouted...and even louder when Nanny Caroline got in the act and kept throwing them back up the stairs to the children. "Nanny!" Enjolras said, amazed that his best friend from childhood had turned on him. He didn't feel right throwing paper balls at a little old lady so he gathered them up and went to toss them up the stairs at the kids.

As soon as he threw them, he shrieked and hit the ground on all fours, groaning about his back. The children stopped their pranks and raced down the stairs.

"Syl?" Nico said, quietly approaching him and putting his hand on his shoulder. "Are you..." he hollered as Enjolras sprang up and tackled him to the ground tickling him. Nanny screamed, Minette stood by in laughter and Josette came in to see what the noise was all about.

At the end of the day, though, he always made sure he was there to say good night to them.

"Want the last of my candle?" Enjolras asked Minette who was at the desk working on an assignment. On her desk was the picture of herself and Jean Prouvaire that Fleur had drawn. "I'm going to bed." he said.

"Sylvain..." she said before he left the study. "...when we joined you in the cafe, you didn't really know what was going to become of us." she said and he sat down at the desk across from her. "I mean WE just figured it would go on forever but you knew something very big was going to happen."

"Yeah." Enjolras said. "Never let it be said we didn't ask each other 'what are we DOING?' he smiled. "Had we not taken you in, life would have continued for you as normal..."

"Had you not taken us in..." she said "...Fleur and I would probably be wives to ten different men every night! The boys I don't know but Peep would probably be a slave somewhere."

"So...what's your worry?" he asked his little sister.

"Well, Mama and Papa are very old, Nanny is going to retire with her sister soon, you're going away after graduation, I've heard you say so. Nico is probably going to go to the church boarding school next year and I..."

"I will always take care of you, Nettie." he said quickly. "You'll come with me and finish studies in Toulon or you'll stay in boarding school...did you think we weren't going to see to you?" he asked and she let go a few tears. "Minette..." he said and went around to her side of the desk and held her. "...another thing you may not have heard us talking about in the cafe was how we would never let you guys go. We promised each other..."

"You promised Jehan?" She asked.

"Yes." he said, stroking her hair and holding her to his chest. "And he promised me, we all promised each other."

"I just miss him so much." she sobbed.

Enjolras had no way of telling her that he felt it was Jehan who was helping him do and say the things to make her feel better. He wouldn't otherwise have known, would he? Or was it those months in the cafe that finally made him 'get it' when it came to loving people and not just 'caring about them'? "I miss him too. Remember when he used to tell you the stories under the table? Sometimes we would push our books aside and listen to them too." he told her and reached for the servant bell. "Sorry so late." he said to the attendant. "Is there still peach cobbler?" he asked. "Can you bring us some?"

It wasn't exactly the warm kitchen table that he used to sit with Nanny when he couldn't sleep but it wasn't a cold night either so they just sat at the desk and poured the sweet cream over the dishes of cobbler. Minette thought about the quiet of the nights as Jehan improvised the story. "If I stay here and go to boarding school will you be mad?" she asked.

"Not mad." he said. "I'll miss you." he was surprised to hear her taking those first steps to independence. He worried about her clinginess. "But there's no reason to worry about it now, Nettie. Mama and Papa are reasonably healthy, you can stay in the school here if you want. I'll never lose touch with everyone up here." he promised, hoping it was going to be a long way off before his parents wouldn't be able to care for her. "You can stay in the school you're going to, you're making friends right?" he pointed out.

She was making friends. It was hard to not make friends with the fairy girl but she also loved sitting alone, reading and writing.

"Syl?" she asked as he walked her to bed, smiling when he saw that she didn't figure herself too old to be tucked in and kissed goodnight. Her hair now underneath a night cap had never lost its fairy silkiness. "When we lived in the cafe...did you love us back then?"

"Nettie..." he stammered. "I'm sorry. I have seen over the past few years, just based on what you have all asked me, I guess I didn't show it."

"We knew that you were going to protect us and knew you were strong and all that though, it wasn't like you didn't care."

"Kind of like a mean school teacher who, later you realise they just wanted to make sure you learned?" He asked.

"You weren't mean!" she argued and hugged and kissed him.

"Good night." he said and with a lick of his fingers and a pinch, snubbed out the candle.

"Syl?" she asked as he headed to the door. "You didn't answer me."

"Sorry..." he said. "Of course I loved you." he went back and kissed her again. "And it kills me that I didn't know how to tell you."

Nico was taken with the church from the moment he had accompanied the family on Sunday. He had been in one before but never so fancy as they were a missionary family in Africa so the churches were small and rough. He was taken with the choir. Would they laugh at him if he told them that he liked to sing. Not well but the music made him so joyful, even though it was rather somber and bland, the harmonies and rising and falling voices. He would ask Mama what it took to do that.

"Courfeyrac used to sing in the choir. He's very good." Enjolras said. "Ask if he'll give lessons." he left it in the boy's hands. He was old enough to look after these affairs himself, especially that he knew Courfeyrac.

"I haven't sung in years." Courfeyrac said. But it was only a few nights a week, one of them was a weekend so he agreed.

"I had NO idea!" Combeferre said, amazed,were you good?"

"Yeah, show us..." Gavroche pleaded.

Courfeyrac sighed after about ten minutes of requesting, prompting, sitting him at the piano and stealing his cane so he couldn't go far before he submitted and started to play and sing.

"Did you know about this?" Gavroche asked Ayisha.

"He sings to me all the time, sings to his children..." she nodded.

From choir to altar boy and then to the seminary. A far leap from a boy who sat at the cafe table and farted with the other urchins but as he looked at the others as he found his dorm at the boarding school, he figured they all pretty much came up the same road. Enjolras went with him for his orientation...it was the same school he had gone to and hadn't changed at all. Probably the same teachers! When Nico got his dorm assignment, they hurried to get the best bed. Nico sat on a few of them for the right mattress, finally jumping up on the top bunk by the window, declaring that to be the one he liked best. Enjolras smiled, that was the exact one he had chosen. Not because it was the most comfortable though, it was because it was farthest away from the rest of the people. He hadn't been unsociable back then, just pensive, not too different from now. Nico liked it for the view.

They went down for speeches and welcomes...and then it was time for Enjolras to leave him there. Both were relieved when they looked around and saw the other boys hugging and kissing their parents, it wouldn't look too bad. "C'mere..." Enjolras reached and held him close, remembering the small boy who wouldn't let go of his red coat tail unless he had to. The top of his head now reaching half way up Enjolras' chest. "...not everyone is going to share your point of view here." he said, resting his cheek on top of his head and kissing it. "Stay true to yourself, Nicolas." he said, tearing up. "Make good choices, you'll do just fine. Write when you get lonely, we're only a day's post away right?" he held him.

"Thanks for everything." Nicolas said. "I have no idea where we'd be without you."

"Probably with one of Emily's bunch in England. Hopefully." he gave him another kiss and let go. "Go to your room and don't look back at me." he whispered and turned Nico to face the school. Only once did Nico turn to watch Enjolras walking back to where the carriages were parked.

"Syl!" he said, running after him. "Just for a moment..." he threw his arms around him and hugged him again. "Take care of Minette."


	25. Five Years Later

**A/N - Okay, I'm probably going to mis-calculate the kids' ages now, so this will be the point I will actually start keeping score. Children's ages, Gavroche 17, Nico 15, the girls all around 12 or 13.**

Christmas time was busy, so Les Families deAmis gathered with the staff of the G. Grantaire Law Office at the boss' house. The students had graduated and started practicing. G. Grantaire Law Office was going strong. Grantaire alternated between the office and an office at home for the days when he 'didn't feel too well'. Still amazing his friends, he was a very competent lawyer, all things considered but if the truth be told, he did mostly desk work or research, he rarely represented. He was more an adviser and he was very competent one at that. His absence from the office gave him every reason to employ M. Courfeyrac as his branch manager, M. Pontmercy and a few other former students at the hauled in good money from the rich and worked pro-bono for the poor.

"Monsieur Yvan Combeferre et Mademoiselle Fleur!" Grantaire heard from the doorway. That confused him, Claude didn't call or announce people so he headed to the front door to see that Combeferre had let himself in and announced himself. It would horrify those in their high circles but it was different for these guys. "Joyeux Nöel !" Combeferre said and hugged and kissed Grantaire.

"Joyeux Nöel Frere Georges" Fleur said and handed him a bottle of brandy. She wore a rich red dress with white fox accessories.

Grantaire smelled the flea juice as he hugged and kissed Combeferre and bent down, not too far down however, to hug and kiss Fleur as a valet took their outer wear. "Business as usual down there?" Grantaire said and looked at the flea bites on the hands of Combeferre and Fleur.

"Yeah, we're down there a few nights a week. Danielle is delivering a baby down there tonight and sends regrets, she probably won't make it here." Combeferre said. The people there were coming to awareness and understanding now that they can do something about their situation. It took awhile but they seem to now know that they don't have to be someone influential or rich to just get the job done. Grantaire and the Combeferres moved towards a parlour to wait for the others. Fleur ran upstairs to find better company.

"Henri - out!" Grantaire ordered the German Shepherd who sat like a God in front of the fireplace, his pillow and bed on the marble slab beside it.

"You named your dog after your father?" Combeferre laughed. "Good going!"

"The staff love it." Grantaire said. "She's beautiful." he referred to Fleur. "She's thirteen now too right? You must be chasing the boys off with a big stick."

"One for each hand." Combeferre sighed. At least she was going to an all-girls school and he kept her busy a few evenings, so the courting room in the new house they had wouldn't be used for a few more years. It was a nice room though, a few comfortable seats and cozy fireplace so when the young men did come calling, they would be able to sit in there with an adult closeby. "Same story with Peep?" he asked as the girls were about the same age.

Grantaire shook his head. "Different story in her school." he admitted and poured the brandy. She did attend school but had a tutor with her so she was pretty much unapprochable by any boys who might be interested and still a bit of an oddity to be found out in public and dressed well.

Fleur knew her manners and she knew that children were meant to greet any guest but Peep wouldn't have heard them come in. She went into the bedroom and saw her trying to get her hair 'just right'. She took a ribbon to tie in her hair, then grabbed another one and a brush to set to work on Peep's little sister Laurette. "I don't know much." she said when Laurette began to sign to her. "You have to learn to write." she said, holding the ribbon in her teeth, brushing and tucking the seven year old's glossy black curls. "There." she said, primping the girl's hair and the three of them went downstairs so the girls could greet Combeferre.

"Tell them they look beautiful." Combeferre said to Grantaire and the girls both thanked him. Laurette had been used to convent life where everything was topped off with a brief curtsy. It amused some people and took awhile for Grantaire to almost have to forbid her from doing that to him. Laurette pointed to the bumps on Combeferre's hands. He had met her a few times. One of the things the law agency did was relocate children, mostly in adverse situations - abandonment, questionable orphanages or - as Grantaire had a weakness for kids who have been institutionalised. While it was true that a lot of parents weren't ready to handle what was thrown at them, they didn't really understand what it did when they institutionalised their children. Before any child went to a new home or on one of the relocation projects, Combeferre gave them the once-over, mostly to ensure they weren't carrying any virus or disease.

"Remember, I told you." Peep said to her sister and explained about the fleas. "NOW do you believe where we lived?" she said.

"Bonjour mon oncle Georges!" a four year old beige boy with black curly hair and twinkly brown eyes came bursting into the parlour. "Joyeux Nöel !" he said and tore around greeting everyone.

"Joyeux Nöel Jean Michel." Combeferre said and got a kiss while the boy was in high speed.

"Joyeux Nöel mon oncle Yvan." the oldest Courfeyrac offspring greeted the doctor before going to the girls.

"I didn't even hear you come in." Grantaire said. "And you left your parents at home?" he was a bit slurry already but perhaps it was because of the elation he got every Christmas with the house decorated with candles, fruit bowls and smelling so nice of special baking that only happened once a year. He took the gift from young Jean Michel. Courfeyrac decided Grantaire would probably get a lot of liquor so he gave him some books. "Merci young maitre." he nodded. "There are sweets over there." he welcomed him and got up to greet his guests. That's right, that's what he needed, more sugar.

Grantaire's nanny already had the newest Courfeyrac in her arms, kissing him. She would look after the children but only after awhile. For now, Grantaire insisted the children join them where children were never allowed when he was growing up, and still not allowed in many homes. Grantaire had a peek at six week old Gervais. Courfeyrac sincerely wanted to call him Gavroche but it was Ayisha's turn to name the baby and she didn't like a hard G for a first name and hard C for a surname. They compromised and softened the G. He looked like a toasty ginger snap nestled into all the wool blankets. Joyeux Nöels were passed around as the valets took wraps and coats. Courfeyrac had brought his valet to help out.

"Matron de Courfeyrac." Grantaire kissed Courfreyac's mother. "Bienvenue." he welcomed her to her annual visit to his house. He hugged and kissed the other two, even though he saw Courfeyrac almost every day. They all went into the parlour where some other guests had arrived. Secretaries, aides and other guests not relevant to the story. Pontmercys had arrived earlier with their 3 year old son Jean and 1 year old daughter Monique. They had brought their nanny as well to help out.

"Hey!" Courfeyrac shouted when 17 year old Gavroche came into the room. He was tall, a few inches taller than Enjolras who was right behind him and they knew Enjolras was 6' tall. Gavroche's hair, still in a blonde ponytail bore the signs of someone who had traveled a long way. Courfeyrac hurried as best he could over to grab and hug Gavroche tightly. Tighter than ever before. "I missed you." he said. "How was England?" he asked.. "And 'Ponine and that new nephew?" he asked.,

"Great." Gavroche said. "Great and great."

"Forgive her for marrying an Englishman?" Grantaire asked once Courfeyrac let him go.

"No, but the baby is cute." Gavroche kidded, he got along with his brother in law whom Eponine met on her travels to England with Emily. "Glad to be home. Learned a lot in 6 months but glad to be home."

"How's your English?" Grantaire asked him in the language Gavroche had been learning for over a year. The young man answered him in English, now bearing a slight British slant to it. "Are you going back there?" he asked.

"Maybe some day." Gavroche said. "Too much work to be done here." he said, still working to improve conditions. He had started a student's group. Under the silent guidance of the elders, their only warning was to not go into battle. They weren't soldiers, they couldn't fight that way. That was the mistake Les Amis made, thinking they could graduate from words to weapons. "Where's Gervais?" Gavroche asked, balancing Jean Michel on his hip then headed to the nursery to meet his other new nephew. "Be there in a sec." he hollered to Nico and Minette.

"Give him time." Enjolras told the two teens. "He just got in." he hadn't been too long off of the train himself. His train from Toulon had arrived only hours before Gavroche's from Calais so he waited at the station for him. "Mama sends her regrets." Enjolras said and kissed Grantaire. "She's not well enough to come tonight." Grantaire understood.

"I will go and visit her this week." Marcelle said.

"Yes, she'd like that." Enjolras said. The fever had taken its toll on Josette. She was weak and spent most of her time in bed or sitting in the parlour with friends who stopped by for brief visits. It was obvious she wasn't going to last long. It probably wouldn't have hit her so hard but for Lucien's passing the year before. This was not an enjoyable period in Enjolras' life. His worry would be what to do with Minette. Nico was already in boarding school. It was nothing for him to go to Toulon for holidays instead of Paris. Minette was fond of her school in Paris. They did have staff at the house but Enjolras didn't want Minette to be alone with just staff and a sick mother. Especially since Papa had just died the year before. Then was the quandry of what was to be done with the Property in Paris after it was no longer occupied by family. Would it be worth keeping? Grantaire kept his house until he was ready to go back to it. Enjolras had no idea how long his mother would need the house for. It was just as well he kept very busy at the Toulon branch of the G. Grantaire Law office. The Enjolras' Toulon property had been converted into a haven for children waiting for passage to England, America or any colony. They jokingly called him the babynapper. "I don't steal them..." he defended. "YOU guys steal them I just ship them." he giggled.

"Georges' Steal and Ship Baby Service." Combeferre laughed. He was glad to be in this circle. In other rich circles, he was self-conscious of the flea bites and smell of the flea juice. Not that it stunk but it had an obvious smell, not welcome in rich circles.

"Nico!" Grantaire hollered and the boy came over. "Show us what you do." he said. There was no accompaniment but Nico sang...like an angel a few Christmas songs. They had found out his talent when Josette had taken him to church.

And he did well. They clapped for him and he went back to playing cards with Gavroche. "And Minette, still writing?" he asked Enjolras.

"Every two days." Enjolras nodded, settling with a glass of brandy. "She has style. They're only letters but she tells a good story." he grinned. "Just reporting an ordinary picnic becomes an adventure." he said, looking at the children. They were old enough to make some decisions but there would be time in the next couple of weeks while Enjolras was home to make definite plans.

"Ahhh...Alain did we wake you?" Grantaire took the little boy brought to him by the nanny. He held his mouth up to the child's cheek, just under his ear and gave a bunch of little kisses. "You have a smile?" he asked.

"A bit of one." Combeferre said, rubbing the child's back. He had done the physical on the little boy whose eyes looked nowhere and gave no response to anyone who was holding him. That's what institutions did to children. His curly black hair and bright blue eyes would never make anyone question if Grantaire adopted him. The question would forever be what happened to the childrens' mother, not 'whose kids are these?' because he made it obvious they were now his. Combeferre rubbed the back of his finger on the baby's rosy cheek and the little boy stuck his tongue out a bit. He wasn't really a baby, he was almost two but very late developed and infantile. It was what institutionalisation did to children. Combeferre smiled and grabbed the child's tongue between his fingers and teased that he was going to pull it out.

"Oh is this your new little guy?" Gavroche asked and came over. He put his finger near the child's hand, little Alain wiggled his fingers but didn't make any attempt to hold Gavroche's fingers like a baby might. "Do parents just leave their kids there?" he asked. "Just because they don't hear? Don't they think?"

"He can hear." Grantaire said. "He will probably also speak."

"What's wrong with him then?" Gavroche said.

"They don't know everything about it." Grantaire said but had recognised Alain's facial features immediately. The almond eyes and larger tongue made him think of Victiore. She had been lively and cuddly, however because she had her mother and brother's love. Alain had been locked away without contact or affection and it was just now that anyone could get any reaction from him if they touched him. Doctors and specialists visited daily to work with him.

"How long are you going to stop taking children in, Grantaire?" Combeferre asked and reached to hold the little boy.

"Until they stop locking them in cages making them sleep in their own shit." Grantaire gave him more kisses before surrendering him to the doctor. "Or, maybe this is my last one." he shrugged. He didn't want to call a halt to it but he would have to see how much of a handful Alain was. He would never have imagined himself to be father of three but that's what you'd call him now. "That's one of the hazards of my job." he smiled when he saw that Combeferre could get a bit of a smile out of him.


	26. Graduation

**A/N: R.A.T.S. It's seen on TV a lot, mostly soap operas. Rapid Aging Teen Syndrome. Gavroche 25, Nico 23 and the girls 21 or so.**

**Also, some weird time-warpy shit goes on when Grantaire and Peep are talking in the park. When 'Taire is talking... It DOES take place in the park but it's to be assumed that he repeated it in sign later on that night. If there's an easier way to write it or if it's too confusing, let me know. As ever, give a review...I love hearing.**

Peep was nervous. Obviously, she had never been asked to speak anywhere before and especially to a room of mixed/hearing people. Her two year university course in education and public relations was finished, her graduation was soon but before that, she was asked to speak as an advocate for a new school for deaf children. The first in the area. Fleur and Minette helped her get dressed, fix her hair and put just a bit of blush on her cheeks - much to Grantaire's dismay.

She looked over the upstairs railing down to the crowd below, seated in rows of seats. There was no auditorium, the chairs were just set up and the panel area would be on a raised platform. She could only see the tops of heads but she could make out a few of them. She smiled when she noticed someone else joining her upstairs, as he had a role to play aswell. She ran to Enjolras and threw her arms around him. "Good to see you." she kissed the cheek of the (by now) well experienced lawyer and he held her in a hug until an interpreter came over. "How was your trip?" she asked as he had come all the way up from Toulon for this.

"Tiring." he said. "If it weren't for the promise of seeing all of you, I don't know that I would have made it." he stepped over to peer over the railing. "Everyone here?" he asked.

"Courfeyracs may not make it. Nobody has heard if they're back from the west coast." Peep said and she smiled to see Combeferre come in. Tall and slim, yellow hair and as classy a doctor as anyone could hope for. Fleur floated down from upstairs to sit next to him. She really moved like a high class lady. So much grace and beauty and here she was destined to be a doctor in a clinic in the slums. She could work at Combeferre's clinic as well but she would never qualify be a doctor as there wasn't enough money for university after establishing the clinic and renting the small property in the slums. She knew almost as much as the Combeferres but there would be no letters after her name. It didn't matter, the slum people she served were more important than the rich people anyway. Amusingly, she had to dress down and rough herself up before GOING to the slums and never go there alone. The men would not leave her alone and Combeferre seriously contemplated for awhile on forbidding her to go down there. That ended in a huge fight, a lot of tears, a lot of 'I worry' and 'I just love you so much' and Fleur wondering just what the hell she was going to do if and when any man came calling. "She looks beautiful." she whispered to Combeferre as she took her seat.

Combeferre was lost in thought when he saw his little sister, now a woman coming down the stairs and making her way over to him. When did this happen? It was just yesterday that she was kicking footballs around in spite of any pretty dress Danielle put her in. No matter how may ribbons and curls were in her lush black hair, Fleur was always ready to kick the ass of any boy around. He was proud of Peep, too and it was her day but he could never keep from being proud of Fleur. "You look beautiful, too." he whispered back then held his arms out for his son to run to him. "You found Mama?" he asked three year old Tomas Combeferre. He had left the seat beside himself free for his wife Mathilde who joined them after a double shift at the hospital. She sat heavily, glad that they had a carriage so she could just collapse into there after this was done.

Peep got one more kiss from Enjolras and took a deep breath, blowing out slowly, The MC introduced the panel and they were applauded as they took their seats at the long conference table.

From her spot at the table, she looked and saw Grantaire. She knew he'd been into the wine, she also knew he drank too much of it. As with Grantaire's own childhood, it was just the ordinary way things functioned in the house. She accepted his drinking the same way Grantaire accepted his father's. The difference, Grantaire also accepted the way his father treated him. He hated it but accepted it as normal, now knowing it wasn't right. He couldn't go back, he had to go forward and he would never treat his children like that. And by loving his children, it gave them no need to perpetuate the habit. Peep occasionally had a glass of wine with company and maybe a brandy but not often and rarely more than one.

"Mesdames et Misseurs." Peep nodded to the crowd and acknowledged the founding board members, which included Enjolras. She had sat up all night trying to think of what to say. The job she was given was the illustrate the importance in getting children out of hospitals and institutions and into schools and social situations like the one they were opening. With that as her only guideline, she took it to the direction of making people realise that deaf children were regular children, it just so happened that they couldn't hear. She nodded to the interpreter that she was ready to start and the woman spoke for her.

"I started school later in life and one of my first assignments was to describe the best feeling in the world. Most of the others used 'happiness', 'excitement', 'comfort' and things like that. I liked all those but there is a feeling that fills me with more joy than any of those things and I can't find a word for it as a 'feeling'. It will take a lot more words.

When you are deaf, sounds become physical feelings through percussion or sometimes, if you're not totally deaf just the right pitch that it's clear and sweet."

Had she been using her voice, her mouth would have gone dry but at least she didn't have to do any speaking, someone else was doing that for her.

"I can only describe my Papa's voice as the best feeling in the world. Not only the obvious, feeling a person's chest or back but in the air. I can tell when he's near even though I hear very little. It can be as early as when he is just coming through the door or even if he is in the parlour talking to someone else...I can feel it." She felt herself getting nervous...if she looked at Grantaire she would start crying so she looked at the Combeferre family, smiling at her. One of the things they were smiling at was, while Peep used the sign for 'father' and when she was talking ABOUT him, she used the sign for 'father' but when she spoke, she still called him "Tsaih."

"How do you sing a lullabye to settle a deaf child? What do you do if she's frightened or upset and can't tell you what's wrong? You can't reason with her. Obviously you want to hold any upset or frightened child but I never thought of it as just being held, more of sharing feelings. Feeling the warmth if I was cold, the strength of his heart if mine was weak or broken. The heart that says 'I am here'. Smells become the same, of his clothes, of his day's work, of what he has eaten..." ("drank" everyone said in their minds.) Grantaire didn't even hear the woman speaking, his eyes were wide and staring as he watched his daughter's hands move. He was oblivious to his friends leaning over and leaning forward to pat him on the back.

"Without proper words, my Papa's voice asked me how my day was, told me how his day was. His voice told me that if I was lost..." she had to stop for second, remembering the terror when she got lost in the crowd at the fireworks "...that if I was lost he would never stop looking. If it took until the last person was gone from the earth, he would wait until he was holding me again."

"Yes." Grantaire whispered...or said in his head, he wasn't sure but he was glad she knew that. He would still be there looking for her if they hadn't found her that night. He would never have left her.

"As I fell asleep in his arms some nights, the last thing I was aware of was the feeling of his voice in his chest and throat as he talked to friends. Sometimes he would fall asleep, too and drop me on the floor but I wouldn't fall far from him. Even the sound of his snoring..." she looked at the other Musain alumni who had never realised that she had heard it all these years "...gave me the feeling of 'sleep tight, I am here and I will take care of you.' Deaf children are first and foremost children. They need to hear you. They may not hear you clearly but it will be their version of normal. They will hear and whatever they hear will become a feeling of comfort. A feeling of 'I love you', 'I will never give up' and 'I will take care of you'. He doesn't have to say a single word for me to know that's true anyway but his voice makes me know he means it. Tsaih..." the sound came through as she signed. She paused while those in the know smiled in secret knowledge "...this school would be so much longer in coming if it weren't for you...and I'll not forget to acknowledge La familie Enjolras who gave us the building to hold the school in." She looked at the parents of the future students. "Your children will grow. They will stay out of hospitals and institutions, they will be part of your family as my Papa made sure I was. Thank you." she nodded to the crowd who clapped for her.

Whatever else happened at the inaugural speeches, Grantaire didn't know, he was just dying for it to be over. He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't...embarrass her." he said to himself. He hadn't wanted to go at all until he heard that Margurite was going to be speaking. They called M. Sylvain Enjolras up to dedicate the school and he stopped as he walked along the panel. "I love you." he stroked her face and kissed her forehead before declaring the school open.

"I have known M. Grantaire and Mme Grantaire for a very long time. I have watched their hard work and, while they never talked about this being a big dream of theirs, I am not surprised. I declare the school open and I...think it's foolish to not acknowledge the first teacher installed." he looked at Peep. Mme Margurite Victoire Grantaire."

The school was urban there was nowhere for a garden reception but there was plenty of room at Courfeyrac's so after the formal social the 'famile de Musain' would head there. The Enjolras' Paris house didn't need renovations, other than desks brought in. The main sitting room was auditorium and foyer, the kitchen and dining room were for just that and the bedrooms upstairs were dorms. Downstairs, the other sitting rooms and salons were turned into classrooms.

Grantaire didn't want to stay there. In his business, he had learned to act interested ... and sober but not being able to hold and kiss his daughter was unbearable. "I am very proud, yes, than you." he smiled at people and shook their hands. "Yes, she's beautiful, than you." he nodded. Finally, he had made the rounds with all the bigwigs. The crowd thinned, parents were settling their children into the dorms and it was time to go to Courfeyrac's. He took Peep's hand. "Let's go" he said to her. He had left Laurette and Alain in the capable albeit flea-bitten hands of Combeferre and family and Grantaire would hire a public carriage to Courfeyrac's after they took a bit of a walk through one of the city parks.

"Tsaih..." she said and for the first time he let some tears fall. They couldn't talk if they were walking arm in arm so they stopped on a bench. "Tsaih...what is it?" she asked, worried that there was bad news coming. "Is something wrong?"

"WRONG?" Grantaire wanted to shout but it would have to be loud enough for her to hear and it would attract attention. "No." he shook his head. "No no no..." he took her head in his hands and gave her forehead a million little kisses. "That's the assignment you wouldn't let me read' wasn't it?"

"It's the assignment that wasn't completed." she reached into her handbag and pulled out the piece of paper that said "Papa's voice." she looked at the way the sun refracted his tears, making his bright blue eyes almost electric blue. It was the main thing that kept it obvious they weren't blood relatives. Her eyes were like chocolate that had melted in the sun and his were so blue that, in the few photographs of him, they looked white. "Don't cry, it's supposed to be happy." she said and dabbed his eyes with her hankie.

"I am happy, Chere..." he promised. "I just can't explain..." he held up his hands, some things just couldn't be captured by waving one's hands around.

Peep hugged hum. Putting her head to his chest. She could feel his heart, it was going a mile a minute, she could smell the wine. "Talk, Tsaih..." she voiced and closed her eyes after he started. She didn't hear clearly but she felt the love, it was, indeed the best feeling in the world.

Grantaire practised in voice what he would tell her with his hands later that night. "You always asked about my Papa and I just shrugged and said 'some day'. Henri Grantaire was a bastard. A good lawyer and great provider - for which we can both be thankful for. It was only natural I should study law and it has done me well. But as far as caring about anyone but himself, he failed. He was never happy. I don't recall ever seeing him happy. Even his children couldn't make him happy. I think that's what hurts most. I didn't know until you and then the others came along that even if you don't start out loving a child, they love and trust you unconditionally and the best way to honour them is to give them the same. I have spent hours and hours for as long as I can remember, trying to figure out what it was that made my father so disdainful of me. What could I possibly have done? Yes, while we all lived in the cafe, every one of us...we thought had our fathers' disdain but one by one, they found out their fathers didn't hate them at all..."

(Okay, time for time warpy thing)

_"Except you?" she asked him as he was explaining__ later at their home that night__. _

_"It wasn't hate. I think it was indifference. He didn't do things to me because he hated me, it was because I meant nothing to him. Anyway...he drank too much..." he shrugged._

_"You see? He did teach you something." She joked._

_"I'm sorry, Peep, I've tried to quit. My father started getting me drunk very young so I wouldn't feel it..." he paused _

_"Feel what?"_

_"He wasn't good to me." he shook his head. _

_"Tell..." she said. "I want to know where all of your pain comes from.__ And then for the last time I want you to be rid of it.__"__ She hadn't been oblivious to the fact that he was not used to the happy households that his friends were. Even Enjolras - though his house had been strict and quiet - there was a sense of family. Not as fun as Courfeyrac's or Combeferre's but something._

_"He hit me with anything he could get his hands on, he made me kneel on broom handles and rocks over there." he pointed to the marble__ where the dog now slept__, stand on the fire poker..." he listed a few others._

_"How did you learn?" she asked him__ "Not to do those kinds of things?"_

_"I just...took everything he did and did the opposite." he shrug__g__ed. "But mostly I wonder just how rotten he was inside to not love his kids to death to begin with."_

(Okay, time warpy stuff done.)

"Don't be mad, okay?" she asked, also having something to confess as they sat in the park. "I went to the hospital and asked for my records."

Grantaire felt his face drain. "What are you planning to do if you meet them?"

"I did." she said. "I was torn between taking you with me or not, obviously I chose the 'not'. They're rich, too." she said.

"We are not 'rich', we are 'fortunate." he repeated what he often told his children.

"I told them about you and the others. About how close I came to losing you, how sick you got" she had to stop for a bit to cry. "How I had to wait to find out how you were and it took forever until I saw you again. She asked if I had a mother and I said yes."

"Why?"

"Because I did. I do. And she left me as a child to fend for myself. If that was an example of what a mother is then it's no wonder nobody ever tried to find me another." She said. "I told her about how I got lost in the crowd and you looked and looked and didn't give up...the total opposite of them leaving me alone in a garden."

"Always..." Grantaire promised her as they got up off of the park bench to head to the hired carriage. "I would always look for you."

"You made it home!" Enjolras said to Courfeyrac. He had come in at the very last moment at the ceremony so hadn't had time to talk. Courfeyrac bounced five year old Gervais on his hip while Jean Pontmercy, and Jean Michel raced after a football and Tomas Combeferre tried to catch up. "Ayisha?" Enjolras asked.

"She excuses herself for awhile, we're both pretty tired, it was an exhausting trip." Courfeyrac said.

"Mother and child?" Combeferre asked. "Both well, Ayisha will be down shortly." Courfeyrac explained again.

"You're not going to say?" Fleur said, nobody knew if the newest Courfeyrac was a boy or girl, only that the baby came after a succession of still births and miscarriages.

"Not this close to debut!" Courfeyrac gasped. It had been an exhausting trip. As the anxiety and excitement began to overwhelm them, hoping it wouldn't end in heartache, they took a weekend trip to the seaside. Just the two...and came back two weeks later as a party of three. "Even Mama doesn't know." he said as the carriage stopped by the door and Marcelle was helped down as she returned from the school opening. She didn't know they would be home that day and smiled to see her son. She remembered well her own relief and joy to have a healthy baby after so much bad news and she kissed him. "Come upstairs." he led her to the bedroom and they stole in there quietly. Ayisha was sleeping but the baby was staring up at the two who approached the cradle. "Grandmere..." he picked the baby up and lay it in his mother's arms. "Meet Marie Marcelle de Courfeyrac." Marcelle took the baby and kissed her. Mon Dieu! "Yes, you got your girl." Courfeyrac said. "I did good, didn't I? He joked. He hadn't been able to stop looking at his daughter since the anxiety about the birth subsided. Like the others, she had a little beige face, soft black curly hair and her mother's long eyelashes.

"Francois." she said and put the baby back down, hugging her son. "Oh my God, my darling, you have done nothing but good since the day you were born. You gave me my girl years ago." she looked at the baby's mother asleep peacefully. She stroked his black curls. "I'm just so glad you have children so you understand just how fiercely your parents love you. You have sons so you know how proud your father was of his son."

"Oui Mama." he said. It was something he had thought about from the moment he laid eyes on Jean Michel. It simply was not possible that his own father hadn't been proud of him. "Are you ready to present her to her Godfather?" he asked.

"I'm going to get Ayisha ready. I think the Papa should present his princess. Look how proudly Georges and Yvan escort their girls everywhere."

"And...Minette." Courfeyrac said about the fairy girl. "Now that she has graduated and is back from university, with Josette gone, what of her?"

"I was going to ask you...being the man of the house..."

"Of course." Courfeyrac smiled.

"...BUT... she is going to be working up north and Enjolras will see to her lodgings."

"Now, go, Papa." she said and gave him another kiss, handing his daughter to him.

He stepped down into the parlour with the baby and went over to Gavroche, handing him the little girl who would become his goddaughter. "I figured it was a girl, with everything being hush hush." Gavroche said and kissed the baby, very used to holding babies by now. After he had his fill, it was time to play pass the baby. "Watch this..." Gravroche grinned and went over to where Enjolras was engaged in conversation with someone. "Syl, can you hold this for a sec." he said to Enjolras who wasn't paying attention and absently held out his hands.

"Ohh. Gav, what are you doing?" he asked, clumsily holding the baby girl. He was always afraid he was going to drop any baby he held. He did, however smile down at the sister of his Godson with her little brown face surrounded by a white bonnet. "Okay, take her now before I drop this baby...NOW Gavroche!" he started to get anxious.

"You won't drop her, you're sitting down." Gavroche said but took the little girl back until her mother got there and took over.

Each of the students looked around, mostly at their children. Minette, Fleur (fleabitten hands and all), Peep and Laurette in their long dresses and bonnets. Where did the pigtails go? However, if given the chance, Fleur would definitely kick the football around with Jean Michel and Gervais. Gavroche, so tall and savvy with some flea bites of his own. He stayed pretty close to the slums too. He wasn't the leader of les Nouvelles Amis but he was their tie to what needed to be done. He was what the Amis didn't have. The one who kept them from setting dreams too high too soon. The voice of experience, thus able to connect with the paupers and get them more active than before, not to mention supplying the stream of orphans to the 'Baby Shipping" racket.

Nico was in the thick of things at the seminary. It surprised a few but mostly they joked that they better count the days that they'll see him in trousers. Soon, he'll be trading his clothes in for robes.

And who was this new gentleman? He, too had fleabitten hands and looked a bit awkward in the good clothes. Well, he was the young man who had been taken with more than Fleur's beauty. The one who had come to the clinic in the slums to 'help' and met the doctor's sister who was filthy and sweat laden, covered with bodily fluids and street filth. He was the one so surprised when he happened to see her outside the gates of the slums with her kerchief off and her bonnet on, led on the protective arm of her big brother. He was taken by the fact that, like the others, she waited until she was out of there before putting on her rich girl clothes so that nobody thought she felt she was better than them. He was the one who broke through the big brother and was allowed in the courting room. He was the one who, by that Christmas time would have a very serious conversation with Dr. Yvan Combeferre and eventually sire the first of the next generation.


	27. Denoument

Matron Marcelle deCourfeyrac lived a long time. She saw her grandchildren to childhood rather than infancy. The students and former enfants du Musain kept in touch and enjoyed their times together but were deeply ensconced in their own lives. The coming of the telegraph made it easier to keep in touch, though Enjolras lived for Minette's weekly letters from the northwest of France. There was less and less cause to evacuate children and Enjolras now mostly practised land titles and marriage certificates. Kind of boring in comparison but every now and again a letter or visit would come from a G. Grantaire child. While a bachelor, Enjolras felt a father's pride in all of them. Saddened by the news of Matron de Courfeyrac's passing, it didn't surprise him as she had been ill and just slipped away in her sleep. A few times he went up to visit the family, as they had been so good to him while his mother was ill. Now, his concern was for his friend who lost both parents without having the opportunity to bid them farewell.

He arrived at the train station in Paris to see a man holding a card with his name on it. Courfeyrac's footman was there to take him to the funeral. The mood was somber but a lot of people honoured Marcelle's legacy by refusing to wear black. Her grandchildren, Jean Michel and Gervais in midnight blue and Marie in burgundy to match her father while their mother, ever the beauty wore deep violet. Marie's first desire was to bound to her uncle from Toulon but she had to sit still for now and had to settle for a momentary clasp of hands. The social after the funeral was for formal catch up and, as ever with the former Musain-ers was rather boring. They purposely avoided each other there so they would have plenty to talk about in the garden later.

"Gavroche." Enjolras said as the strapping young man approached him in the garden. He hugged him. "You are doing it!" he said, referring to the stir that he and his fellow student friends continued to make. "You are making a difference...down there..." he looked at the flea bites. "You look tired." he kissed his head, acknowledging that, in losing Marcelle, Gavroche had lost his dearest Mama. His last twelve years made his first eight years seem like it had all happened to someone else.

"I am tired." Gavroche said, now having to stoop over a bit to hug any of the adults there. "How did you do it?" he asked. "Studying and...rebel rousing?" he asked.

"Had me some good help." he waved around at the others but kept his arm around Gavroche. He was so proud of him.

"And a drunk for the corner?" Gavroche smiled.

"THAT wasn't intentional." Enjolras laughed but now that he thought about it, all of the frustration and exasperation Grantaire had been at the root of was long forgotten. "But you can't very well teach the people to unite if you're acting alone." His eyes strayed to the young man approaching them. "Oh my God..."

"THAT was meant to be a surprise." Gavroche said, a bit disappointed that the man who tapped his arm after the funeral wasn't hidden for awhile longer.

"Rene?" Enjolras scarcely dared to guess. "Un or Deux?" he asked as he hugged the man who now sported an English accent, you'd never know of his beginnings.

"Just Rene now." he smiled. "I haven't seen my brother since we were transported, I think he went to America." Enjolras caught up a bit with Rene, hearing about his wife and infant son Andrew. Rene just wanted to take a week or so down in France to look up some people, having no idea where they were but remembering that the students were studying law and that there may be a chance at least ONE of them was practicing there. He had stopped by Sainte Michel and found Gavroche. Rene was equally interested in everyone. He had sat at the funeral...a funeral of a woman he never knew and could only guess who was who. Fleur was obvious. She turned heads even as a child and was surprised that she hadn't just married a socialite and kicked back and relaxed the rest of her life. He wondered if she could still play football and walk fences like she used to. Probably but she wouldn't. She couldn't now in the dress that women wore. On the streets, you were just as likely to find her in trousers, at the cafe maybe considerably shorter dresses. Peep was just as obvious, now more than fluent in sign language and Grantaire keeping right up with her. He would never have recognised Father Nicolas. He was the man who officiated the funeral and still wouldn't have known him until Enjolras acknowledged him as "My brother the father." Once the priest role was off, however, the boys all had a lot of catching up to do.

"Marie." Gavroche said as Combeferre carried her to the clique. "You must greet people, even if you enter a room backwards." he remembered one of the first lessons of etiquette the doctor had given him. Marie was upset about her Grandmere and sort of lost in the crowd. Having been relieved of his own children in the schmauzle of other children, Combeferre picked little Marie up for a bit of comfort.

"This isn't a room." Marie said, looking around the garden and slipped into the arms of her Godfather so she could greet everyone. Rene saw Courfeyrac making his way over. This was the only visible evidence left that the rebellion had actually happened. Enjolras pretty much overcame his injuries, just stiffness in his back and his legs got tired more easily. But then he was forty, what's to say he wouldn't be slowing down anyway?

"Last I saw you were lying injured, I didn't know if you would make it." Rene said to Courfeyrac

"None of us did." Courfeyrac said. Remembering the last time he saw the twins they just witnessed the death of one of the few people who had ever been good to them. "I wanted you to stay with us, where did you go?" he asked.

"Home." Rene said "and then the next week with someone who took us to Calais for a year and then someone took me to Devon. I'm sorry, I guess I didn't write because I was scared of what I would hear." he said and his gaze shifted to Grantaire's beautiful daughters. Three of them now, Peep a young woman, Laurette now seventeen and Vianne a spunky ten year old with almond shaped eyes and a fondness for swinging from the arms of Gavroche. Little Alain had passed away the year before due to a bad heart that often accompanied the disability he had.

"A brother, too." Vianne said. "Sylvain is five."

A carriage stopped in front of the garden and the footman helped a young woman down. She wore a simple floral dress, her fairy hair in a neat bun under a bonnet and a smile for everyone. Enjolras broke from the crowd and stalked over to her and hugged her. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming, I could have met you or at least sent for you." he said.

"And now what, we're too good for hired carriages?" she asked. "I wanted to see your face." she stroked his cheek. "Careful!" she said when he picked her up and swung her around. "Careful." she said, patting her belly.

"Really?" he asked, breaking into a bigger smile and hugging her, patting her stomach as if to apologise, looking around. "Is Bernard coming too?" he looked for his brother in law to congratulate him.

"Working." she shook her head. "Some bighead is coming to town and asked him to cook for their kitchen." she said, disappointed and held up her hand. "This close we were to leaving and they couldn't have gotten hold of us in time." she whispered.

"I'll come back with you so I can visit with him, too." Enjolras said. Bernard was a character. Eclectic, a concert singer and chef and their son Clement was following his dad's joking ways even though he was only three and Enjolras got a kick out of him. "Well, you saw my face, come see everyone else's." he led her over. "How's the writing?" he asked.

"THIS is what I wanted to see your face for." she handed him a book.

"Nettie!" Enjolras smiled. "Your first book." he looked at it. "La Belle Fee." he sighed. "Great pen name." he grinned "...by Jean-Minette Prouvaire."

"Had to think of something people would remember." she said and squealed when she saw Ayisha and Fleur.

With the exception of serving staff, the social hardly had the appearance of a high society function. While many of them knew the etiquette for any other occasions they might attend, there was never anything but casual good times to be had at their "private parties".

Grantaire escaped to a smaller patio for a bit of rest. In overwhelming crowds, his body reminded him of his mystery infection that left him zapped of energy even if he knew all of the people and they knew to give him space. Enjolras knew it and left him for awhile, then grabbed two glasses of brandy and joined him. They chatted for awhile before they saw Combeferre coming to join. He didn't have to walk up the few steps, with his long legs the doctor just stepped over the railing. ""You okay, 'Taire?" He asked.

"Just a bit short of breath, need a rest." he said. "I'm okay, really." he said when the doctor took his pulse.

"Yeah, you are." he nodded, noting his colour and senses were okay.

"Drinkin' for two?" Enjolras asked, noticing Combeferre put two glasses of cognac on the table.

"Courf is coming, just needed his drinking hand for the stair rail." He took his place and opened the garden gate for Courfeyrac to get through. Oddly, the whole time they knew each other, the three always sat in the very same chair formation. Enjolras at the end, Courfeyrac on one side and Combeferre on the other. Grantaire was never there, he was in the corner but for the past 15 years graduated to the other table end. Today though, they sat in a row against the wall, enjoying the sun and looking over at their friends and families. Their plans and rebellion failed, but they all agreed that THEY were not failures. "Look what we've done!" Grantaire slurred and toasted the crowd.

"Yes." Enjolras said softly. "Look what we've done."

Epilogue

Gavroche Francois Thenardier (his name was never legally changed but he didn't care. He was a Courfeyrac as far as he was concerned). Continued Les Amis mission and brought the people closer to equality. After earning a degree in business, he moved to southwestern France and ran a small hotel. A nice one with a friendly pub, good food and clean guests. This Master of the House grew to be 6 1/2' tall, had to duck through doorways. Married the bar maid. Two children.

Father Nicolas Lucien LaMonde. Did mission work in Africa for ten years but did return to France occasionally to officiate all "Musain" weddings and baptise their children.

Helene (Minette) LaMonde married a very likeable fellow and moved to the northwest coast where he worked a few jobs and she bore seven children. From her home she was able to continue her writing. Novels, mostly but her one book "La Belle Fee" was the first book donated to the Jean Prouvaire Biblioteque at the Victoire Grantaire school for the Deaf in Paris.

Daphne Yvonne (Fleur) Combeferre. Married a man from Sainte Michel and they worked at the free clinic together. When they weren't there, they were non-medical staff at the hospital and Fleur sold her water colours. Six children. Okay, did you all want to know what was on the piece of paper she was so desperate to hang onto? In her "learning-to-write" scrawl was simply written the names of everyone who lived at Cafe Musain. It was all she kept out of her childhood box of treasures.

Margurite (Peep) Victoire Grantaire. Had only two jobs her entire life and both were at the school named after the dear aunt she had never met. Years of teaching before promotion to headmistress. She was an advocate for the rights and advancement of handicapped children and had her hand in several institution closures. When she was promoted to head mistress, the handsome replacement teacher had a hard job ahead of him. Not just to live up to her teaching record but to break through to her father in asking for her hand. Five children, all delivered by Dr. Combeferre.

And what of the founding Musain Amis?

Sylvain Lucien Enjolras - retired from law practise at age 45 (remember, lives were shorter back then). Lived his golden years with Minette and family...never getting comfortable with holding babies but enjoying his nieces and nephews after they got past that stage. After beating two severe spinal infections, it left him weak and bedridden. Finally succumbing to pneumonia, he died in his sleep at the age of 62.

Yvan-Michel Combeferre - a young widower, raised his two children on his own but along side his nieces and nephews, courtesy of Danielle and Fleur. He took the children to the slums often to play with the other children there and taught them about not putting on airs and acting like they were better than the hard working people there. He watched conditions improve slowly which included building a new clinic on the site of the Cafe Musain. His beautiful sister, Fleur found him, one day slumped over his desk after a stroke. At age 57, the head injuries from the barricade managed to do what they had failed to do 25 years earlier.

Francois deCourfeyrac retired at age 50. He and Ayisha raised their children to appreciate what they had and to share. After retirement, they traveled to Britain and Ireland for a year, getting home to their first grandchild..a girl called Eponine Marcelle. Having no feeling in his leg by now, Courfeyrac hadn't noticed an infection begin. They were unable to stabilise it. He asked Dr. Combeferre to be by his side, as he had seen death before and his wife and children had not. It was hard on Combeferre but he honoured his friend's wishes and held his hand until it totally relaxed.

Georges Henri Grantaire continued as a legal adviser and funding research on what they gave a name to Down Syndrome. Vianne lived to be in her late teens, which was about five years longer than life expectancy back then. Along with his two deaf daughters he adopted and 'tamed' four others who had only known institution life. On a visit to see his first great-grandchild Georges in Rome, he told his granddaughter that his body was starting to protest the number of birthdays he had. He lay down to nap with the baby. It was Grantaire's 65th birthday. Eight children, twenty two grandchildren and one great grandson, he was the only one to not succumb to injuries during the June rebellion. 65 was a long life back then. Must've been the brandy.

The End


End file.
